
,0 5?- 



yip 

1 



Aei»«$ OF BOOKS 
14Q PACIFrc AVENUE 



THE 

ALBATROSS NOVELS 

By ALBERT ROSS 
23 Volumes 

May be had wherever books cu-e aold, at die price yoa 
paid for this volume 

Black Adonis, A 
Garston Bigamy, The 
Her Husband's Friend 
His Foster Sister 
His Private Character 
In Stella's Shadow 
Love at Seventy 
Love Gone Astray 
Moulding a Maiden 
Naked Truth, The 
New Sensation, A 
Original Sinner, An 
Out of Wedlock 
Speaking of EJlen 
Stranger Than Fiction 
Sugar Princess, A 
That Gay Deceiver 
"JTieir Marriage Bond 
Thou Shalt Not 
Thy Neighbor's Wife 
Why I'm Single 
Young Fawcett's Mabel 
Yo«ng Miss Giddy 

G. W. DILLINGHAM CO. 

Publishers :: New York 



MOULDING A MAIDEN. 



By Albert Rosg, 

author of 

« Her Husband's Friend," " In Stella's Shadow,* 

*• Speaking of Ellen," *' Thou Shalt Not," 

** His Private Character," Etc 



« // will avail nothing to a girl 
that she has health, beauty and in- 
telligence, if her character is not 
moulded rightly. And no TTiaflf 
though he were a saint, can properly 
mould it '' ~^Page iZ^. 



NEW YORK: 

•OrYRISHT, IS«1, BY O. W. OILLIIMHAlb 

Gm W% Dillingham Co., Pudlishers, 
AU Rights Remrvm 



CONTENTS. 



i. Max Vandenhofif's Will. 
II. Examining the Baby. 

III. *' Paris is a wicked city.' 

IV. A Never Ceasing Pressure. 
V. A Study from the Nude. 

VI. The Great Story Book. 
VII. " I do not want to say." 
VIII. Inside of Bohemia. 
IX. « A little like lying." . 
X. " I never kiss gentlemen.' 
XI. A Demoralizing Practice,** 
XII. Drawing from Mile. Susette. 

XIII. " Oh, is that religion ?" . 

XIV. Lysle Comes Home Again. 
XV. " Good-bye, little woman.** 

XVI. It is Different with a Girl . 

XVII. Stanley at Heidelberg. 

XVIII. ♦ Don't call me a child V* . 

XIX. Indisputable Documents. • 

XX. " You must go with me." , 

XXI. Death Enters the House. . 



' f 
tj 

• JS 

. 48 
. 61 

. 74 
. «5 
. 99 
. Ill 
. 134 
. 13? 
. 151 
. 165 
. 180 
189 

• X9> 

. f !• 

«tl 

. ttf 

. M# 



rvi 



2061967 



QOilTKinjk 



XXIL Uke a Sweet Delirium. • • . tftf 


XXIII. C'est gaie, n'est pas ?" . 


. 9jS 


XXIV. Arthur Peck's Revenge. 


. . a86 


XXV. Confronting the Defaulter. 


• . 99s 


XXVI. In the Inspector's Power. , 


. .304 


XXVII. *• It surprises yoU; does it r. 


. 3«7 


XXVIII. OfiE for Buenos Ayres. . 


. 330 


XXIX " Here are two criminals." . . 


. 337 


XXX. « Where are your jewels ?" . 


• 346 


XXXL Too Woaderfui to be Trut. . 


. .ass 



TO MY READERS. 



In introducing the sixth of the " Albatross Novels'* 
to the reader, I shall attempt neither apology nor 
explanation, though I think no other novelist of the 
present age has aroused so much unwarranted criti- 
cism. I have been accused of almost every fault. 
Not only are my stories very '* wicked," but they are 
wholly uninteresting, if we are to believe the review- 
ers of some of the periodicals. There is only one 
point which no one has cared to dispute — more of 
my books have been sold In the last thirty months 
than of those written by any of my very excellent 
and much lauded contemporaries. 

But I must be careful. A critic whose article has 
just fallen under my observation accuses me of 
boastfulness, because I once before alluded to the 
success of my ventures in the literary field. Let me 
assure him that I did it rather in a spirit of grati- 
tude and appreciation than of undue pride. I have 
not yet ceased to wonder that the American public 
has chosen to purchase, in so short a time, nearly 
half a million copies of my works. I am continually 
surprised at the figures which my publisher gives me, 
and at the statements of traveling friends that 
hardly a book-stand from Bangor to the Pacific is 
without these volumes. 

Why this immense circulation ? ** Because you 
have dealt in forbidden subjects," says the chorus. 
Is that really the reason ? Then why has ** Her 

Cvii] 



Tffi 10 MY SBADBBA, 

Husband's Friend/* which is admitted to be iritht« 

the strictest bounds, surpassed in its sales, d!iring 
its first four months, even the figures of " Thou Shalt 
Not," counting the same length of time ? Why have 
the orders for the present book been larger than any 
of those received before, in advance of its publica« 
tion ? Perhaps you have made a mistake, Mr. Critic 
In spite of your opinion, there may be something 
worth reading in these novels. 

In an article which appeared in the Arena for 
March, 1891, I fully explained my theory of what is 
permissible in fiction. If I have done anything 
reprehensible it is in not living closer to that theory. 
One hates to walk the public streets with a legion of 
curs barking at his heels, be his conscience ever so 
clear. If enough mud be thrown with diligence at a 
given object, says the proverb, some of it will stick. 
I find myself affected by the hue and cry, senseless as 
I know it to be. And I can the less excuse myself 
when I find the number of my followers increasing 
instead of falling away. 

You, my dear patrons, are, after all, the only 
Judges for whose opinion I ought to care. Write 
and tell me, as you have done before, what you 
think of my work. What have you to say of Janet 
Steiner ? Have I made Rosalie what she should be ? 
Is Stanley Melrose impossibly precocious or Lysle 
too virtuous for a student of the Latin Quarter ? 
Tell me all about it, and though I may not answer 
you, I shall treasure every word as though it cam« 
from one whose voice and face I knew intimately. 

ALBERT ROSa 

Address : 
31 West 23d Street 
Mew York Q^. » 



MOULDING A MAIDEN 



CHAPTER L 

MAX VANDENHOFF*8 VtUm 



"Well, I'll be hanged!" 

" No doubt aboift that, I guess.** 

** What an unnecessary statement !** 

•* Come, Lysle, tell as something we dont imow.** 

Four of the students of Brooks Academy were 
gathered in the room of one of their number, during 
the part of the day devoted to recreation. The first 
sentence above quoted was uttered, in a tone of the 
greatest surprise, by the youngest of the party, and 
the succeeding ones were merely the attempts of his 
companions to show their wit. 

Carlysle Melrose, or " Lysle," as everybody called 
him, had just received a letter, and it was evidently 
its contents that had drawn from him the exclama- 
tion referred to, 

" The oddest thing has happened that you ever 
heard of !" he said, looking up. "A relation <rf 
mine has died in Europe — ' 

" And left you a fortune of a million pounds !** 
cried Arthur Peck. " My best wish is that you may 
be unable to eat or sleep till you've given us halL 



10 ]iOirLDIN0 A If AIDBS. 

A million pounds ! What the dickens can yoa do 
with all that money ? It is altogether too much for 
you!" 

Lysle was still too deeply absorbed in the letter he 
had received to do more than stare at the rest of the 
boys, without comprehending in the least what they 
were saying. 

" What are you going to do about that fortune ?^ 
continued Peck, with an air of mock insistance. 
** Come, we are entitled to know." 

" My relation has not left me any large sum," said 
Lysle, " but he has — " 

**you dog !" exclaimed Luke Woodstock, another 
of the party, taking up the joke begun by Arthur 
Peck. *' Do you intend to swindle us out of our 
share of the estate? By the vane on yonder 
Academy, I swear — .** 

"Oh, let him tell his story," interposed Dudley 
Morgan. 

Silence being restored, Lysle proceeded to reveal 
the news that had caused him so much astonish- 
ment. 

" It is the strangest thing in the world. I had a 
cousin named Vandenhoff, whom I have never seen 
to remember, as he has spent most of his later years 
in Germany and France. He has recently died, 
leaving an infant daughter, who is to inherit his 
fortune when she comes of age. His wife is also 
dead, it appears, and in his will he has named three 
guardians for the little girl — a cousin of his wife's, 
named Janet Steiner, a maiden lady of twenty-five 
years or so, Stanley Melrose and myself." 

At the last word, all of Lysle's companions 
burst into uncontrollable laughter. 

" You !'* cried the party in chorus. " You'd make 



HAX rAOT)ENHaFP'8 WILL. 11 

a nice guardian for a young lady ! Wiiat was the 
matter with the old gent — crazy ?" 

** I should think so," was the sober reply. ** And 
yet he has always been supposed to be sane enough. 
He was not an ' old gent,' either. Not more thaa 
thirty at the most. I'm very sorry to hear he's dead, 
upon my word !" 

The boys seemed to realize, all at once, that there 
was something besides fun in the affair, and they 
looked at Lysle with a new interest. 

** Here is the whole story," he said. " Max Vanden- 
hoff inherited his money from his father, and has 
spent most of his time since then abroad. He must 
have married within a comparatively short time, as 
I had never heard of him except as a bachelor. 
His wife's cousin, Miss Steiner, who writes me this 
letter, says she had been acting for some time as 
a companion to Mrs. Vandenhoff, who died shortly 
after the birth of this child. The father's death 
occurred very unexpectedly, and he has left the 
little girl to our care, because we are, as she says, 
her sole relations." 

Luke Woodstock said he wondered what the law 
was in a case like this, 

*' Can you exercise such authority as is contem* 
plated in that will," he asked, " while you are your- 
self a minor? I should think you would have to 
wait till you could control your own property before 
you could handle that of other people." 

Woodstock was a little older than the others, and 
as he intended to be a lawyer, this hazard of an 
opinion was received with due consideration. 

" I don't know, I'm sure," said Lysle, in reply. 
"If your conjecture should prove correct it will leave 
Miss Steiner in charge of her for a good while, as 



19 MOI7LOINO A MAXDBS. 

Stanley Is only two years older than I am. But tfaart 
can't be much that we can do, any way, while the 
child is such an infant I imagine that all Vanden- 
hoff intended was to provide for emergencies. Stan* 
ley and I were merely put in, I suppose, to act as 
alternates in the event of her death/* 

Luke then asked, with an eye to the main thing of 
importance, what provision there was for recompense 
to the guardians. 

** We all get something," replied Lysle, referring 
again to the letter whi»h he held in his hand. " Miss 
Steiner gets twenty-five thousand dollars, Stanley fif- 
teen thousand dollars, and I five thousand dollars." 

" What's the reason for the sliding scale ?" queried 
young Peck. 

•* I'm sure I don't know. Perhaps Miss Steiner has 
no other expectations." 

But Luke took up the cudgel in great indigna- 
tion. 

" Stanley has at least as much coming to him from 
his father's estate as you have from yours, and yet 
he is to get three times what you do, by this will. 
Now, that is what I call downright meanness !" 

Lysle Melrose surveyed the speaker with his calm, 
wondering eyes. 

** I am sure it was Mr. Vandenhoff's money to do 
as he pleased with," said he. " There was no obli- 
gation for him to leave me a cent, unless he wished. 
It was very kind of him to remember me at all. It 
would be unhandsome to find fault merely because 
some one else gets more." 

Upon this, Dudley Morgan, who had been pacing 
up and down the room in silence, paused to inter- 
ject a remark. 

** It isn't because he has left you such a little sum 



VAX trANDSNHOFrS WOL. IS 

tflat I care, Lysle, but because he has left Stanley so 
much. He will never spend a cent of that fiftee« 
thousand dollars on anybody but himself. He is 
the meanest, stingiest — " 

Lysle rose quickly, and caught hold of his com- 
panion's arm. 

"Stop, Dud, unless yoa wish to offend me," he 
said. **I cannot hear such remarks about my 
cousin." 

**It is true, though,** put in Luke Woodstock, 
impetuously, ** and every boy at this academy will 
say the same.'* 

"They won't say it to me, for I'l! not listen,** 
replied Lysle, firmly, taking up his hat. He was not 
in temper, but he had a grieved look that told its 
own story. " When you fellows are ready to talk 
about something that interests me, I shall be glad to 
return," he added, taking a step toward the door, as 
if to quit the room. 

But Dudley had him by the sleeve, and on foehalt 
of the entire group of offenders promised to drop the 
unpleasant discussion about Stanley if he would 
remain. Lysle was a great favorite at Brooks, and 
none ot its inmates were more attached to him than 
was Morgan. 

** I've been studying it all out," remarked Wood- 
Stock, when the party were seated once more. ** Your 
lelation was a man of discretion, after all. He has 
appointed Miss Steiner to this trust because he 
wanted some one to look after the moral and relig- 
ious welfare of his child. He has named Stanley on 
account of his financial tastes, to see that her fortune 
is well invested, and made to earn a large dividend. 
And he has added you, in the hope that, when she 
grows older you will develop her artistic nature^ 



14 WaULDtSQ A VAXDBR. 

With three such guardians, the young 7ady ought tO 
become a perfect paragon. If you take as good care 
of her as you should, Lysle," he added, gayly, " I 
think I shall postpone all thoughts of marriage till 
she becomes of sufficient age, and then put in an 
application for her hand." 

This was considered amusing enough to draw 
laugh from everybody in the room, and put all in the 
best of feeling. 

" How old do you say she is now ?" inquired 
Morgan. 

** Nearly a year." 

** And her fortune, how big is that ?** 

** Nearly two hundred thousand." 

** It will be two millions by the time she is twenty- 
one," said Morgan, " with Stanley to manipulate it. 
Luke, accept my congratulations." 

There was an implied reflection against Stanley in 
this statement, but it was veiled with a compliment, 
and Lysle could not very well object. 

" Confound all your avaricious speculations !** 
burst fort Arthur Peck. " What color are her 
eyes? That's the question. Will she be tall, short 
or medium ? Will she weigh just a hundred and fif- 
teen — the charming weight for a woman — or will she 
tip the scales at one hundred and eighty ? iWllI she 
be sweet and tender and clinging, or cold, formal 
and dignified ? What size shoes will she wear on her 
feet? What will be the number of her gloves ? Will 
her upper lip have a delicious shortness, causing the 
pearls beneath to drive men to distraction ? Will 
her shoulders be shapely, but not too full, her arms 
slender, but beautifully moulded, her slight bust the 
promise of a not too grand fulfilment ? Will her — ** 

But at this Juncture, young Melrose uttered ao 



MAX TANDBNHOFF's WILL. IB 

exclaination that stopped his companion short in the 
midst of his rhapsody, 

** What's the matter, Lysle ?" inquired the speaker. 

*• You've no business to talk in that style, Arthur," 
was the reply, ** and you know it." 

" Not of a baby a year old ?" laughed Peck. 
' " No, not when she is to be my ward. Beside, 
you were not speaking of the baby that is, but of 
the woman that is to be." 

Arthur seemed determined, however, to consider it 
nothing more than a joke. 

" Serious as ever !" he exclaimed, still laughing. 
•* I was only drawing an artistic picture for the eye 
of an artist. You are going to be a great painter, 
you must remember. These fellows " — pointing to 
Morgan and Woodstock — " whose mission in life will 
be the weaving of cloth and the drawing of deeds, 
might misunderstand me, but you should not. You 
are an artist, and you ought to look at things from 
an artistic standpoint." 

Still Lysle declined to be convinced, and it was 
evident that the remarks he had heard had nettled 
him more than he wished to show. 

" Say what you may," he answered, " I think no 
one would care to hear the physical qualities of his 
female relations debated with your remarkable free- 
dom. You may mean all right, but your language 
iS very distasteful to me." 

Peck grew angry at that. 

" Oh, if you don't like it " — he drawled, In that 
exasperatingly slow tone which is often more insult- 
ing than a direct rebuff. 

"I don't!" replied Lysle, sharply. "And what's 
more, I won't have it !" 



" Woiitf* echoed Peck, in a rage. ** If I diOM to 

go on, what would you do about it, I'd like to know?* 

It takes very little to precipitate a quarrel betweea 
schoolmates. Blows would have followed in another 
moment, had not Luke Woodstock, the coolest head 
in the party, interposed, and told them both that 
the one who struck first would have to fight him, 
too. 

** That isn't the question,'* said Peck, still smart- 
ing under his fancied injuries. *' Who was wrong, 
that's the point ?" 

** No matter about that," said Luke. " You fel- 
lows think the world of each other, and in a min- 
ute more you'd have been pounding faces like two 
ragamuffins of the street. Drop it, now, and never 
even think of it again." 

*• But who was right ?" reiterated Peck. " If I 
was wrong, I will apologize. If he was, let him do 
the same." 

Luke looked at both the boys. 

** Do you want me to decide it f* he asked Mel- 
rose. 

•♦Yes," said Lysle. 

•* Well, Arthur was wrong in the first place," he 
said, *' and you were wrong in the second. Besides 
that, Dudley and I were wrong to listen without 
protest when we could see so plainly that you were 
being annoyed." 

** Shall I apologize Y* demanded Arthur. 

•*No." 

** Shall I r asked Lysle, with an effort. 

•* No, but I want you to shake hands." 

This was done with a fairly good grace on the 
^«rt of both. 

"Now, is there anything else you wish to t^ 



KAZ VANDSNHOFF's WILL. It 

aft about your new ward ?** asked Woodstock, with 

an idea that this would be a good way to get the 
conversation back again into agreeable channels. 

** No/* replied Melrose, positively. ** I do not 
wish to say anything more about the matter.** 

Morgan began to whistle a popular tune, and 
one by one the lads withdrew. As it was Lysle*s 
room in which the affair occurred, he soon found 
himself alone. 

" I must take better care of that temper of mine,* 
he mused, as he sat there. " It will get me into 
trouble some day if I do not look out. In another 
second I should have struck Arthur. But after all, 
he was very aggravating. His comments were in 
frightful taste. Perhaps he couldn*t see how they 
appeared to me, though. Was I too sensitive ? If I 
had made the same remarks about a sister of his, 
would he have liked it, I wonder? I've half a 
notion to apologize to him the first time we meet. 
The only trouble is he might receive it badly. 
No, on the whole, I think I won't say anything." 

He took up one of his books and began to study, 
but the unpleasantness of his recent altercation was 
too fresh in his mind to be forgotten, and he made 
little progress with his task. Presently he put the 
volume away, and gave himself up to reverie. 

Carlysle and Stanley Melrose were the sons of 
two brothers, both of whom had died in youth, leav- 
ing their only children to the care of such guardians 
as the court might appoint. The boys were, as the 
reader may have already surmised, quite dififerent in 
their mental make-up and habits of thought. Stan- 
ley, who was now sixteen, had already developed a 
tendency to careful expenditure of his allowance, 
and was known to be saving up a good part of it. 



18 MOITLDINO A MAIDEN. 

some of which he loaned to his fellow pupils at 
usurious rates. No occasion was important enough 
in his eyes to justify a gift of money or other 
thing of pecuniary value, and the occasional sub- 
scription papers that were passed about the 
academy never bore his name. To the charge of 
meanness he had the ever ready answer that if 
others were as careful of what they possessed, there 
would be no necessity for charity. He was a bright 
scholar, seldom missing anything in his lessons, or 
violating any of the rules of the school. His 
intention was to be a lawyer. He never was known 
to have trouble with either teachers or pupils, and 
his habits were such that no fault could be found 
with them. And yet not a scholar at Brooks 
Academy was less liked than he. 

Lysle's character can be easiest described by say- 
ing that he was almost everything that his cousin 
was not. He was so careless with his expenses, 
and so generous with his gifts, that he was always 
in arrears financially, and very often heavily in debt 
to his more prudent cousin. His good nature got 
him into innumerable scrapes. Several times he 
was on the point of being sent away in disgrace, 
but the universal fondness for him stood him in 
good stead. There was nothing really wicked about 
the lad, and this his preceptors soon came to know. 
The nearest he ever came to being expelled was 
when he took upon himself the offence of one of the 
other boys, a very grave one, which it was hard for 
the authorities to overlook, and perhaps I cannot 
introduce him better than by giving a short history 
of that affair. 

" Don't you say a word," he had said to the real 
culprit, when he found that the investigation that 



KAX takdbkhoff's will. 19 

had been set on foot would surely result in hit 
detection unless some one confessed. " I know it 
you are turned out of this academy you will iiave to 
go to work, and won't be allowed to finish youf 
education, while if I am expelled my guardian will 
only send me to some other institution. Keep quiet, 
and they will never suspect you." 

The sinner protested that he should not allow 
Lysle to do anything of the kind, but his fear at the 
punishment in store was too great, and when the 
boys were appealed to in the great hall to tell who had 
perpetrated the mischief, young Melrose stood up in 
his place. " Do you know the penalty ?'* asked the 
old professor, his voice shaking with emotion. 

" Yes, sir." 

** Master Melrose," said the professor, ** will remain 
after the rest are dismissed." 

The principal of the academy, Professor Wilson, 
had had charge of boys for forty years, and he was 
quick to notice things. The astonishment of the 
other lads at Lysle's confession, the gasp that had 
issued from the throat of the real culprit, and the 
sad looks of the entire school as they marched out, 
some with tears in their eyes, were not lost on him. 
When he was alone with Lysle he did not immedi- 
ately speak. They sat regarding each other with 
expressions of mingled regret and esteem. 

" The penalty of the offence which you have con« 
fessed is expulsion," said the old professor, at last. 

** I know it, sir," said Lysle, unflinchingly. 

" Shall you not be sorry to leave this academy ?" 

"Very sorry, sir." 

*• What do you expect to do next ?" 

** I hope t« go to another one with the least pomi> 
bk delay/' 



f9 MDCTLIXHO A xahxiev. 

* If they knew your record here, do you think the^ 
would care to receive you ?" asked the professor, 
tearchingly. 

** Perhaps not, sir." 

** Supposing they asked you the cause ofyouf 
leaving Brooks ?" 

Lysle hesitated. 

"You would not lie to them ?" said the professor, 
altering the form of his question for greater effect. 

** I do not think I would, sir. But I would not 
need to tell everything." 

*' Lysle," said the professor, kindly, " would you 
think it right to tell a lie — a. downright lie — undet 
any circumstances ?" 

The boy hesitated again. 

** I cannot answer you, sir.** 

** Cannot answer me !" exclaimed his questioner, 
in mock surprise. " If you had committed a breach 
of the rules of this academy, for instance, would yoQ 
lie to save yourself V* 

** Oh, no, sir.'* 

" Or would you allow any one else to lie for you ?" 

The boy was very ill at ease. For the first time 
he could not look the professor in the face. 

*' I know a boy," continued Professor Wilson, " who 
has allowed another boy to shoulder an offence that 
belongs to him. What ought to be done to a boy 
like that ?" 

Lysle looked up and saw that he could no longer 
conceal his secret. 

"You do not need to punish two for the offence of 
one," said he, with deep earnestness. " Expel the 
boy who has confessed the guilt. The other may 
have a mother at home who will feel his disgrace 
▼ery keenly. He may have a step-father who will be 



MAX YANDENHOFr^S WILL. ft 

•nly too glad of an. excuse to take him from school 

and put him at work. The punishment of expulsion 
which to the one will be only a slight delay in his 
education may mean endless torment to the other. 
I know your kind heart, sir, and I am sure you can- 
not hesitate." 

"Has Dudley Morgan a step-father?" asked the 
professor, wiping his glasses. He had had a step- 
father himself. 

Lysle did not answer. He was appalled at the 
mention of the name, which he had not supposed 
the professor knew. 

" You have told me a falsehood " said the pro- 
fessor. 

Still Lysle was silent. 

" May I go now, sir ?" he asked, presently. 
The professor was in a great quandary. He did 
not wish to expel this lad, whom he had learned to 
love almost with the affection of a father, and what 
he had just learned of Morgan's home-life made 
him hesitate in his case, also. After a moment's 
thought he touched a bell, and when a servant 
responded he said, " Send Master Morgan here." 

The room was very still for a minutes after that. 
When Morgan appeared he wore a look of deep dis- 
tress. 

" Do you know anything, Morgan, about the mat- 
ter of which I asked my pupils this morning?" was 
the professor's direct question. 

"Why do you do this?" queried Lysle, quickly. 
*• I have confessed everything. I am ready to take 
my expulsion. Excuse me. Professor Wilson, but 
this is hardly fair." 

The professor looked at Morgan. 
•• You heard my question ?" he said. 



23 HOULDINa A MilDESr. 

" Yes, sir,** was the trembling reply, " and I am 
very glad you asked it, sir. I did the whole of the 
mischief myself. I have been a coward to allow 
Lysle to take the blame, but it is all over now. I 
shall have to go to work in the mill, which Ij hate, 
but I couldn't have stayed here if he had been pun- 
ished in my place. He knew my situation, and he 
persuaded me to let him take the blame, before I 
had time to reflect. I am very glad it's over, sir, and 
I hope you won't blame him too much." 

The professor had to take off his glasses again 
and wipe them. They had somehow grown so misty 
that he could see nothing at all with them. 

"Lying is a terrible vice," he said, finally, to 
Melrose. " I shall forgive you this one offence, if 
you show due regret. You are sorry for the false- 
hood, I have no doubt ?" 

" No, I am not, sir," replied Lysle, firmly. 

** W — what !" was the astonished reply. 

** No, sir. And I want to ask you now, sir, 
whether you are going to expel Dudley. Because, 
if you are," — he spoke very slowly and distinctly — 
** I shall not stay." 

" W — what ? What's this ?" stammered the pro- 
fessor. 

" His step-father is a mean old skinflint," pursued 
Melrose, rapidly. " He has taken all the money his 
own father left, and Dudley will never get a cent of 
it, and now he would like mighty well to have him 
turned out of school so as to give him an excuse to 
set him to work. But I will stop that. I shall have 
a good deal of money coming to me when I am 
twenty-one, and I can get enough in some way to 
keep him going. And if you turn him out of this 
academy, why, he and I will go to a new one 



BXAMUrmO THB BABT. 8S 

together, and I shall pay the bills. You may as weV 
understand that now !" 

Morgan stood with his eyes very wide open, fof 
this little plan of Lysle's was entirely new to him. 

"You — you will both go to your rooms," was the 
professor's mandate, as soon as he could recover 
sufficiently from his astonishment to say anything. 
"I will decide both your cases later." 

When they had gone, the professor walked up and 
down the room for an hour with his hands behind 
him in deep study. Every few minutes he took off 
his glasses and wiped them. He was a great stickler 
for forms, and he meant to do a good many things 
when he began his walk. Order in the academy had 
been seriously threatened. He felt that something 
must be done to prevent a recurrence of the offenses. 

Months had gone by, however, at the date this 
story opens, and he had never quite made up his 
mind what to do. 



CHAPTER II. 

EXAMINING THE BABY. 

One incident in the life of a boy may give as cleat 
an insight into his character as a long dissertation. 
Carlysle Melrose had his faults — indeed, many of 
them — but he had not learned to do anything con- 
temptible up to the time he was fourteen years of 
age. Boys often change after that, but the deepest 
marks are usually indented before that age. There 
are early signs in the child that show what we may 
expect of the man. 



If MOUUHNa A HAIDBS. 

Half an hour after Lysle*s quarrel with Arthof 
Peck, detailed in the preceding chapter, his cousin 
Stanley entered his room. He, too, had just learned 
of the peculiar will of their relation, and he came to 
talk about it. Stanley had not a very great idea of 
Lysle's judgment in a matter of this kind, or any 
other, for that matter, but he was the only person 
available with whom there was any use of discussing 
it and wanted to see what he had to say. 

** You've heard from Janet Steiner, haven't yon V 
were his first words. 

** Yes," was Lysle's reply. " I received a letter 
about an hour ago." 

" What do you think of it V 

** I was sorry to hear that Vandenhoff was dead. 
I supposed him a man in the best of health, who was 
likely to outlive all the rest of us. It is quite a 
shock to get news of that kind, when one has no 
preparation." 

Stanley assented quietly to this, but did not seem 
particularly impressed. 

" He has left you and me partial guardians of his 
child, it seems. I wonder what the law is about our 
rights while we are minors. I have some ideas of 
my own about the bringing up of children," he added, 
thoughtfully. 

" Ah !" said Carlysle, with a look of surprise. He 
was used to hearing all sorts of remarkable things 
from his cousin, but this struck him as stranger than 
anything else he remembered, even from his lips. 

" Yes,* said Stanley. " I believe half the children 
are spoiled by foolish parents, A child is for a long 
time nothing more or less than a young animal. It 
should be treated during its first few years with an 
eye single to the developments of its physical need 



IZAMININa THS BABT. Wk 

As it gfrows older its impressions are of the greatest 

importance. Yet who pays any attention to these 
matters ? Usually it is petted and spoiled to begin 
with, its health is broken before it is ten years old, 
its knowledge of the world is gained at hap-hazard, 
and the result is unpleasantly visible in the peculiar 
people we see around us." 

Lysle looked at his cousin with an air of awe. He 
could not understand how any one could be as wise 
at sixteen as Stanley was, 

" I do not know what the law is," continued Stanley, 
" but I am going to find out. If I am to be held par- 
tially responsible for the future of this child, I want 
to put my theories in practice from the start. Miss 
Steiner may be a very excellent woman, but an old 
maid is constitutionally incompetent to bring up any 
child, without assistance and advice from others." 

He might have seen sixty years instead of sixteen, 
judging by the way he spoke. 

" I had an idea," said Carlysle, unconsciously 
quoting Luke Woodstock, " that the intent of the 
will might be to leave the — what you would call the 
'bringing up' of the little girl to Miss Steiner, 
because — well, because she is a woman — and the 
management of the property interests to us, because 
— because we are, or are going to be, men. It must 
be divided up some such way as that, I should 
think, to prevent any disagreement among the 
guardians." 

Stanley Melrose tried to conceal the contempt 
that he felt for this proposition, not to say for its 
author, behind a strange smile. 

" Money is much less important to a young per- 
son than character," he said. " It is comparatively 
easy t» keep a lot of cash productively invested, but 



IB SdDLI»NO ▲ MAIPSN. 

the developing of a young mind requires the deepest 
thought and the most uncompromising firmness. 1 
do not know of anything that would have given me 
more pleasure than to learn of this trust. I only hope 
I shall not be prevented entering upon its duties until 
I am twenty-one. The first years of a child's life— 
especially of a girl's — are everything. If I have to 
wait till I am of age she will be six years old before 
I can exert my authority." 

" And eight before I can say a word," smiled Lysle. 
** Quite a young lady." 

" Miss Steiner is to arrive in America within a fort- 
night," continued Lysle. " We shall then know the 
full text ot the will, and be able to tell what our 
rights are. Mr. Vandenhoff was very kind to leave 
us such handsome presents," he added, after a 
momentary pause. 

Stanley shrugged his shoulders slightly. 

" You cannot call them presents," said he, " if, as 
seems to be the case, the money is given in place of 
fees for administering- upon his estate and caring for 
his daughter. I hope I have not the vice of ingrati. 
tude to answer for, but it appears to me that he has 
not been over-generous, considering what he asks in 
return of me — of us, I should say. Surely the sum 
he gives you is beggarly enough. Though, perhaps/' 
he suggested, guardedly, " he did not expect as much 
of you as he did of me. You certainly ought not to 
do as much for five thousand dollars as I for three 
times that sum," he concluded. 

A mischievous thought came at that moment into 
the head of the other. 

" On that basis Miss Steiner ought to do nearly 
twice as much as you," he said. *' She will have hef 
hands Well occupied." 



BZAMININa TBS BABT. IT 

' Oh," replied Stanley, with a half sneer, "w« 
can't reckon her bequest on the same basis as ours. 
You and I shall have something coming to us when 
we are of age. She probably has nothing. She will 
have to assume the nominal guardianship of the 
child, of course, and we shall have to assent to every- 
thing, I suppose. I wonder if she is tractable," he 
added. " She could make things very uncomfort- 
able, if she were inclined." 

There did not seem to be much more to say on the 
subject until more information was obtained, and 
the conversation of the cousins drifted into other 
channels. 

" Do you still think you shall be a lawyer ?" asked 
Lysle, presently. 

" Yes, there is nothing more profitable, if well man- 
aged, than a good attorney's practice. And you still 
stick to your notion of being an artist, I suppose ?" 

Lysle assented. 

" I'm fit for nothing else,*' said he. " I can draw, 
and mix colors, and put them on, and there isn't 
another thing in the world that I can do." 

" Do artists make much money ?" asked Stanley, 
musingly. 

" I don't know. I hope I shall never have to sell a 
picture. It seems as if it were in some way a degra- 
dation to art to exchange it for gold. How much 
money will there be coming to me when I am of age, 
do you think ? You have inquired, I have no doubt.** 

Stanley calculated mentally for several minutes. 

" If it is invested as carefully as it ought to be, 
you will have three thousand dollars a year as long 
as you live. Not a great deal, is it ?" 

Lysle stopped to think. 

" About sixty dollars a week ? I can live on that. 



li MDULDINO ▲ MAIDBB. 

I shall not want much — nothing but a bed>rooin aikl 

studio, a little canvas and my working materials If 
I thought I cou!d always paint, and paint well, and 
never have to part with any of ray productions, I 
should be happy." 

His cousin stared at him for some time in silence. 

*' What is the use of painting, unless you sell your 
work ?" he asked. " It would be like running a mill 
and keeping all the goods you made." 

" But pictures are not like cloth,*' responded 
Lysle. "They are the creations of the brain, the 
children of the mind. I should feel almost like a 
father who had to part with a child if I saw a paint- 
Jog going out of my studio. No, Stanley, I shall 
never sell one of my pictures unless I am driven to 
it by necessity, and if I can have sixty dollars a week, 
I shall get along very well." 

The other shrugged his shoulders in doubt. 

" But when you marry," he said, *' the sum will 
not seem so large. Women are expensive creatures, 
you know." 

** I shall never marry," replied Lysle, firmly. 

Stanley smiled. 

" You will marry," said he, *' before you are twentjr 
two." 

Lysle looked much interested. 

"Why do you say that?" 

" Because you are all sentiment. Yoi\ do things 
without due thought. You cannot tell this minute 
what you will do in an hour from now. A boy who 
would run the risk of being expelled, as you did in 
that matter of Dudley Morgan's, would do any other 
foolish thing." 

Lysle flushed a little, but he was not offended at 
his cousin's words. 



* I CB not tony that I did that," he aanrtrvd. 

" It looks as if it had all blown over, doesn't it f 
Tou don t know the trouble it would have caused 
Dudley had he been sent away in disgrace. But 
that is quite different from marrying. I shall be so 
attached to my art that I can think of nothing else 
I can hardly wait till the day comes when I am to 
ftart for Hurope." 

" How long shall you remain abroad ?" 

" Four years or more. If I am as pleased as I 
expect to be, I may reside there altogether. After 
I have completed my studies at Paris I should like 
to settle down in one of those sleepy old towns in 
Italy that I have read of, and do nothing but paint 
all the rest of my life." 

" And what is to become of your interest in our 
ward, all this time ?" Stanley inquired, smiling. 

" Oh, the Vandenhoff baby ? She must wait till 
she is old enough to walk and talk before she calls 
much on me. I shall leave her infantile days to 
you and Miss Steiner. You have your theories, 
you know, and I have none at all. When she is 
larger, if I return, I will try and help out in her 
training. I can see no other way, unless you two 
are willing that she should be sent to Europe whea 
Igo." 

Stanley smiled again. He was much relieved to 
hear this. He was glad to know that Lysle would 
not be there to interfere with his plans in their 
earlier stages. He was a boy of great force of mind, 
and he knew it would be easier to influence Miss 
Steiner if she were alone than if she had Lyste to 
support her objections, as very likely she would 
luve L< he remaiaad Ha had an idea that LysI* 



would tide with a. woman, merely beesnge flM 
one, whether she was right or not. 

The next daj after this, Stanley called again on hif 
cousin, to tell him that he had been over to a law 
library and read a good deal in relation to the dutlM 
of guardians, and that he felt quite sure that, under 
the will of Mr. Vandenhoff, Miss Steiner would haTC 
to consult with her colleagues on everjrthing of 
importance in relation to her charge, even though 
they were under the legal age. 

" You only want to stick to me, Lysle, and we wilt 
have an understanding from the start,'' said he. 

To this Lysle good-naturedly assented, and when, 
one day, news was brought that Miss Steiner was in 
New York and would like to meet the Melrose 
cousins, the two boys went to the place appointed^, 
under an implied agreement to stand by each other, 
in case of any difference of opinion. This meant 
nothing more nor less than a victory in advance for 
Stanley, if Lysle had only been wise enough to 
understand it 

Miss Steiner welcomed them so cordially, and 
with such an entire absence of formality, that all par- 
ties were placed immediately at their ease. They 
found her a very quiet lady, of refined appearance, of 
medium height, dark complexion and well rounded 
form. The most noticeable thing about her was an 
expression which denoted that the had passed 
through severe sufifering, and there was a marked 
constraint visible in her manner, which Stanley 
immediately accredited to her spinsterhood. She met 
the cousins in a small private parlor of the St. 
Nicholas Hotel, at which she was staying. 

•*You have both received ray letters, doubtless,* 
•te Mid after alluding io the briefest possible flw 



KtkMOJMQ TMS WUn tl 

Ber to the Ion they had sustained in the death of 
their kinsmao. 

"Yes," replied Stanley, who naturally amumed 
the position of spokesman. 

" Very likely you thought some of the provisions 
•f Mr. Vandenhoff's will strange ones." 

** They are not of the usual kind/' said Stanley, 
** but I see nothing unreasonable in them. He seemi 
to have intended to provide care for his child undef 
all probable contingencies. I think he made a very 
wise will." 

Miss Steiner looked at the lad with great interest 
She had heard that he was far in advance of most 
boys of his age, but she was hardly prepared for 
this speech. 

"You have thought — very likely," she went on, 
after a pause, " of some plans in relation to Rosalie.** 

Rosalie ! So that was the child's name, was it? 
Lysle was sure that he liked the selection. Stanley 
was sure that he did not. 

"I — I have thought of some things," replied 
Stanley, rousing himself from the reverie into which 
the mention of the child's name had thrown him. 

" In the first place, it seems to us — to Lysle and 
me — that we can all get along without the interven- 
tion of outsiders in this matter. We two are, of 
course, under age, and legally have no rights to 
assume a guardianship of this kind in the face of 
opposition, should there be any. But, as between 
ourselves, being relations and friends, we ought not 
to have any disagreement. My idea — and Lysle't 
—is that we ought to go on, just as if we were both 
twenty-one, and assume the duties given fo nt. 
Have yoa tha original of the will with yoa. or • 
foopy?" 



m woaiaam a ukama. 

UUm Steiaer had a copy, which the prodsced. 

Stanley found nothing in it to alter the condvtles 
to which he had come. 

** I am interetted to hear what yon ha^e to say/' 
•aid Miss Steiner, **and I a8:ree with yon in one 
thing, at least, the undesirability of having other 
parties interfering in our affairs. If we can get along 
together without frict'<«n, I shall be delighted to 
escape any appeal to the taw, beyond what is neces- 
sary to give me the right to collect and pay moneys 
on the estate — subject to your approval, of course," 
she added, noting the doubt that had at once mani- 
fested itself in Stanley's face. " Now, tell me frankly 
just what you wish to do, and we shall soon see 
whether there is any vital difference in our ideas." 

Stanley paused a full minnte before replying, dur- 
ing which L3rsle arose and took a walk ap and down 
the apartment 

'* I cannot tell you off-hand," said the elder lad, at 
last, ''all I should wish. The child ought, of course, 
to remain in your control, if you are willing te 
assume that responsibility, until she is a good deal 
older than she is now. You hare an attendant for 
her, I presume f* 

Miss Steiner bowed. 

" There can be nothing about which we could clash 
for the present," he said, thoughtfully. " As she 
grows older — but then, before that happens I shall 
be of age to assume my full rights without question." 

Miss Steiner looked at him in some alarm, as It 
she felt apprehensive that these expressions would 
prove the groundwork of something serious in the 
dim future, but she controlled herself, and tmraed 
plaasaatly to the other lad. 



wuMoaxa ns bast. m 

"And jroo, Lysle? Have yoo any 4ilIcveBt 
theories to advance ?" 

** No," he answered almost bashfully. ** I do not 
think I shall make you much trouble. But where is 
the baby ? I think we ought to see our ward before 
discussing her much longer. Perhaps,'* he added, 
with a bright smile, ** she may have some ideas of 
her own about the summary way she is being dis- 
posed of." 

Miss Steiner called a maid, who soon brought in a 
little bundle of dry goods, in the centre of which 
was the cause of all this conclave. I am not going 
to describe Miss Rosalie as she appeared on that 
occasion, except to say that she looked much like 
other happy and healthy babies approaching one 
year of age. One thing I must note, however : 
She won the heart of Master Carlysle Melrose on 
the spot, and before any one knew what he meant to 
do, he had taken her from the girl's arms into his 
own. 

Both the nurse and Miss Steiner viewed this act 
with proper consternation, but Lysle assured them 
that he would exercise great care and they were fain 
to appear content. He was one of Rosalie's 
guardians, and had a right to take her in his arms if 
he liked. 

** She is a well child, I should think," remarked 
Stanley, wondering how his cousin could have the 
depraved taste to wish to hold such a mite as 
that. 

*• Extremely so," was Miss Steiner's reply. •• She 
has three teeth " — Lysle, who had just found them, 
corroborated the report-—** and hat hardly been ill a 
day since her birtb." 



St iconiJ>iNo ▲ UAiamt. 

** How old was she when her mother died ^ asked 
Stanley. 

Miss Steiner started at the question. 

** Only a — a — few days," she said, in a low voice. 

•* Did her father expect to die soon, when he made 
the will ?•• 

•No." 

Miss Steiner's agitation was evident, and Lysle 
wondered that Stanley should continue his ques« 
tions. 

"That accounts for the odd provisions,** mused 
the elder Melrose. " He doubtless believed wo 
would reach full age before we should have its 
duties to perform." 

** Yes, that is probably true," assented Miss 
Steiner. 

** Do you intend remaining in America ?" 

** For the present." 

** I should not like to have the child go away too 
far," said Stanley, " speaking for myself." 

For an instant she was on the point of making a 
sharp reply to this statement, but she repressed her- 
self, as she had done before. She was very sure 
now that she did not like the author of it, and she 
feared she should like him less as the years rolled 
on. 

She turned to Lysle. 

"You are both at school, I believe,** she said to 
him. 

"Yes, but I shall finish at the end of this term. 
I'm going to be an artist, and I shall go to Paris to 
study." 

** What about your little ward, while you are 
away ?" she asked kindly. 

** Oh, the baby ^' he asked, looking up froro the 



*PABIB IS A WIOKSO GITT.^ Si 

face upon which he had been inducing a successiom 

of smiles for the last five minutes. *' I think I shall 
be willing to trust her to you. She is a very sweet 
child," he added, resigning her to the nurse, ** and I 
am proud of my new dignities." 

After they had gone, Miss Steiner took Rosalie 
from the nurse again and held her for a long time in 
her lap. 

*' We shall have trouble with that Stanley Melrose 
—you and I," she said. "How different he is from 
his cousin ! And Lysle is going to Paris — Paris, 
that wicked city, with no one to guide his young 
steps. An artist ! I could have told it by his face. 
What will they do in Paris, with that nice boy, 
Rosalie ? Will they destroy all the goodness i% 
him, as they did of — ? Will they receive him with 
a soul as pure as an angel's and send him back with 
it blackened beyond recognition ? If we could keep 
him with us, Rosalie, and never let Siira leave our 
sight till he is strong enough to bear temptatioa t 
Ah, Rosalie, if we could only do that t" 



CHAPTER III. 

*'rAKI8 IS A Wk;K£D CITT.* 

When the term at Brook* Academy was finished, 
both of the Melrose boys left that institution of learn- 
ing, Stanley to enter Coluinbia College, and Lysle to 
take his European course m the art schools. Stanley, 
though barely seventeen years of age, was well 
advanced and had no difScuIty in passing the neces* 



ii iKWUinra a lumai. 

mrf ouiminatioii prescribed by the college. L3rflllt 

could not obtain the usual diploma of graduation^ 
bat cared little for it, as he did not mean to devote 
himself much more to the mere book-studies. He 
had drawn ever since he was big enough to hold a 
pencil, and all of his dreams were in the direction of 
painting. He could hardly wait for the day when 
he should set sail across the Atlantic toward those 
lands where the artist finds, and seems likely to find 
for many generations yet to come, his best inspira- 
tion. 

The leave-taking of the other students from the 
cousins was of a widely different nature. Stanley 
got no more than a formal good-bye from either 
teachers or pupils. It was all that he wanted, so he 
experienced no disappointment. But the parting 
with Lysle was another affair entirely. He was a 
general favorite, and all felt that his leaving would 
be a genuine loss to the good-fellowship of the 
school. From the old principal. Professor Wilson, 
who had had the talk with him that day when he 
told his lie for Morgan, down to the latest arrival, 
thore was gloom at the prospect of his departure. 
Dudley felt as badly as any of them, for Lysle had 
proved himself a friend to the unlucky boy on more 
occasions than one, and he could conjure up nothing 
but trouble when removed from his watchful care. 

** You can gfive me just a week to stay here after 
the next term begins," he said to Lysle, dolefully. 
** The professors are all down on me and only wait* 
Ing to get a chance to expel me." 

**But it all lies with you to prevent them, Dud'** 
replied Lysle. * You mustn't give them the chance. *• 

''VobII see,** replied Morgan, shaking his head. 



"fabis 18 ▲ wioKBD comr.'* 91 

* I tha'n t do anything at all, but they'll get <m to tut 

just the same." 

Lysle gave him all the encouragement he coul^ 
and they agreed to correspond with each other. 

" If you get into any trouble, which you mustn't, 
you know, you will tell me all about it," said Lysle. 
**You will never be without a friend while I live, 
Dudley." 

Luke Woodstock was sorry to have him go, too^ 
but Luke did not express his feelings as freely as 
some boys. He contented himself with wishing the 
lad good luck, and predicting that he would one day 
see his name high up on the scroll of famous artists. 
Arthur Peck said good-bye in a quiet way. He had 
never acted quite as warmly toward Lysle since that 
day when they had the little difference. It occurred 
to Lysle several times to say that he hoped there 
were no hard feelings, but there seemed no real 
occasion for it. He did not wish to do injustice to 
any one, and he did not think he had done so to 
Arthur. These were the boys with whom he had had 
the closest acquaintance in the academy, and the 
parting with them was the only unpleasant thing io 
his contemplated journey. He thought nothing of 
leaving Stanley. They had never sustained intimate 
relations. As cousins who were in charge of the 
same guardian, they were frequently brought in con- 
tact with each other, but there was no close fellow- 
ship. The will of Mr. Vandenhoff was the only thing 
that made it likely they would meet much after 
their school days at Brooks were over. 

The cousins went to New York together. Both 
had to see their guardian there, and they also had to 
pay a visit to Miss Steiner and her charge. Mr. 
Dennitt, their trustee, was a pleasant old gentleman 



W ICfMTLDINO A MAIDSH. 

who had always let them do exactly as they pleated. 
When Lysle told him that he wished to be an artist 
and go to Paris he assented quite as a matter of 
course. When Stanley made known his preference 
for Columbia, stating that he meant to be a lawyer, 
h« approved of the proposition without a word. 
Had the boy decided to become a horse jockey, Mr. 
Dennin would probably have been quite as well sat- 
isfied. But when the lads confided to him the con- 
tents of their cousin Vandenhoff's will, he was 
obliged to laugh outright, the first and only time, it 
is believed, in his entire life, 

** And so you are to have the bringing up of a 
baby ?*' he said, to Stanley ; and he seemed to find 
the idea vastly amusing. 

" Yes, sir," responded Stanley, with due dignity 
He could see nothing to laugh at, and he meant to 
impress Mr. Dennin with that fact. " That is. Miss 
Steiner, Lysle and I together will have it to do. 
But as Lysle is to go away for some years, and as 
Miss Steiner is a — a woman — the responsibility will 
devolve very largely upon me." 

*' The lady is the only one of the party who is of 
legal age," suggested Mr. Dennin. " She is entirely 
willing, is she, to accept your suggestions ?" 

** It seems so," replied Stanley, •' The only alter- 
native would be to turn everything over to some- 
body like you until I am twenty-one. And that 
would be of no advantage, you know." 

He was delighted at the chance to give his guardian 
a rap in exchange for the one he had inadvertently 
received, so long as he could accomplish it in this 
guarded manner. 

" Exactly," said Mr. Dennin, growing entirely 
sober. **You will get along famously, I have ao 



•fakis is a wicked wit.* S9 

tfoobt. It is a great responsibility, thouj^h, this 
bringing up of a girl. I — no, I don't think anything 
would make me accept such a trust." 

Stanley looked wiser than ever. 

** It is a common error," said he, " to consider the 
training of a girl as such a different thing from that 
of a boy. There are a great many silly notions pre- 
vailing about the radical difference of the sexes. 
No^, my idea is that they are for all practical pur- 
poses identical." 

"Bless my soul !'* exclaimed Mr. Dennin, thrown 
momentarily off his guard. 

Lysle looked and listened, thinking what a very 
wise man his cousin would become at the rate he 
was going on. 

** Children, be they boys or girls," pursued Stanley, 
** should be brought up exactly alike. They should 
have plenty of physical training. We should be 
sure that their bodies are sound before we try to 
cram their heads full of learning. The way that girls 
are handicapped, under the system generally in 
vogue, unfits them for their place in life. They are 
petted, made to act unnatural, given a surfeit of 
bonbons and taught superfluities before they have 
any idea of essentials. For their first ten years they 
are nothing whatever but little animals, and should 
be treated accordingly." 

Lysle was thinking of the dainty bundle of linen 
and lace that he had taken in his arms at Miss 
Steiner's. He was not quite sure that he liked to 
hear Stanley speak of Rosalie as a " little animal." 

" You refer to the place of a girl in life," said Mr. 
Dennin, wonderingly. " What is her place ? Per- 
haps you have new ideas on that subject, too." 

" It should be her place to be of use,** was tbc 



W womjMt» A mahnol 

ioftaat ftfif. ** It should w/ be her phioe t* act the 
gMut of a doIL Nature has made her with legs— the 
ought to be able to walk miles without fatig^ bf 
the time she is five. She has been g^ven arms — she 
ought to strengthen them as boys do, and not keep 
them for exhibition in some parlor or opera box. 
Look at the fashionable girls of to-day, and tell me 
what they are good for. Their gentlemen escorts 
carry their smallest parcels to and from the carriages 
in which they languidly recline when out of their 
houses. A maid dresses and undresses them. Upon 
the slightest exertion they are overcome with 
fatigue. I maintain that girls are naturally as 
strong as boys, that they can, in fact, bear greater 
hardships than their brothers if properly trained. 
Give me the first ten years of this child we are talk- 
ing about, let me direct her as I desire, and I will 
show you a contrast to what you will find in any 
other house with which you are acquainted." 

Mr. Dennin wanted to say that he did not doubt 
that, but he did not wish to offend his ward. 
Stanley was the kind of fellow that it was as well to 
keep on good terms wxth, 

" If you stay in Europe ten years, Lysle,** con- 
tinued Stanley, turning to his cousin, " I will show 
you a paragon of strength and muscle when you 
return. She shall then match her strength with any 
boy of her age and come off victorious. She shall 
be able not only to ride a horse, but to catch and 
mount him. / could do it when / was ten. She 
shall be able to hit a bull's-eye at forty paces with a 
revolver, /could. And when she is eighteen, if a 
man speaks insultingly to her she will neither faint, 
scream nor run away. She will give him one blow 
between the eyes that will make him food for the 



**wAMa n ▲ WMKBD omr.* 4A. 

•mtralaaoi wagon, /can do it; why ihoalda*! 

Lyile was obliged to admit to himself that Stanley 
said this very well, and he had no doubt that the 
theory was a correct one, for he knew Stanley to be 
a very wise boy. But it puzzled him some to imagine 
all these things of the baby he had seen laughing up 
at him in Miss Steiner's parlor. 

**What are the women of to-day good for?'* 
demanded the young reformer. " Can you tell roe ?* 

"No — I am sure — that is — I really don't know,** 
stammered Mr. Dennin, who was a bachelor. 

*' I have heard of them being utilized as wives*" 
put in Lysle, who thought he ought to come to the 
rescue in some way. 

•• Wives !" sneered Stanley. " Yes, they are wives» 
and look at them ! Did you ever examine any of 
them critically ?" 

Lysle hastened to say that he had not 

*' Nine-tenths of them are invalids, in one form or 
other," said his cousin. " Thirty per cent, either die 
or are broken in health for life with their first child. 
The way they are raised, their lack of physical train- 
ing, and their bad diet, is responsiblo, and in a few 
years the world will come to realize it. Then, if the 
race is not too far gone for repair, there will be a 
reaction and we shall have an era of healthy wives 
and mothers. I am going to begin with this girl now.** 

Neither Lysle nor Mr. Dennin had any thought of 
answering these statements. The extent of Stanley*! 
knowledge paralyzed both of them. 

After finishing their business at their guardian's^ 
which did not take very long, the boys [sought Miss 
Steiner again. She was still staying at the hotel 
where they had first seen her — tlie St Nicholaii 



41 mOCLmSQ A KAIDBir. 

Three months had passed and the baby was able tt 
creep about the floors and to utter certain sounds 
which were supposed to have definite meaning^. 
Lysle stayed only long enough for a formal leave- 
taking, as it was settled that he should start without 
delay for France. Miss Steiner evinced unmistaka- 
ble regret at the news of his early departure, but he 
promised to write often, she in turn agreeing to 
inform him of the progress which -his young ward 
made, from month to month. She wanted to say a 
g^od deal more to him, but she was embarrassed 
by Stanley's presence. She wished in her heart that 
he was not going, for she liked him extremely well, 
but there was no help for it and she did not think it 
wise to reveal her thoughts. 

Stanley remained that day after Lysle departed, 
and set about conveying some of his Ideas to his 
co-guardian. 

** Miss Rosalie will have a good deal of money, 
will she not ?" was his first question. 

"Quite a fortune," responded Miss Steiner. ** It 
is all in first-class securities, and foots up nearly 
two hundred thousand dollars in American money.' 

He asked to see the list of assets and she went at 
once and brought it to him. She had deposited the 
securities with a trust company and showed him the 
receipt. He looked them over with the eye of a 
connoisseur, and asked in relation to the present 
value of some of those of foreign issue. 

** They will hardly average over four per cent^** 
was his closing comment. "That is too little as 
things go here. I should advise that these German 
and English stocks be sold, and the proceeds rein- 
vested in American concerns." 

Miss Steiner ventured to remark that Mr. Vaif 



*VAsn n A wioKBo cErr. il 

(lealioff bad always consulted absolute safety rather 
than the highest income. But to this Stanley replied 
that a higher return than four per cent, was possible 
with securities that were entirely gilt-edged. He 
said it was the duty of a trustee to take the best 
care of the property entrusted to him, and that it 
would be criminal to allow it to earn less than the 
highest amount that care and diligence could secure. 
The lady was astonished at his apparent knowledge 
on these subjects, and not over-pleased at his 
patronizing way of imparting his information, but 
she had determined to avoid any open rupture if 
possible, and she told him that if he would make out 
a list of the changes in the investments that he pro- 
posed she would take time to decide about accept- 
ing them. He had no greater desire than she that 
there should be any falling out, and though it con- 
tinually occurred to him that she was "only a 
woman," he let it go as she suggested. 

His notions about the physical training of young 
girls were not touched upon at this interview. He 
realized instinctively that this was a matter which 
he would have to approach guardedly, as Miss 
Steiner would very likely claim that it was an 
invasion of a field which should be entirely her own. 
He saw that the mite of humanity that was creep- 
ing about the floor, and pulling herself up by the 
chairs and ottomans, seemed in a fairly healthy con- 
dition. But her clothing was not what he wanted it 
to be — there were too many encumbrances about 
her feet, and she wore what he considered too great 
a weight of goods for the hardening process he 
believed it was not too soon to begin. Then it dis- 
tressed him to see the little German nurse come and 
•natch the child up and cover her tiny mouth with 



idsset. IMdo't the yonng idiot know that aotUag 
was more unhealthy for babies than to kiss them on 
the mouth? He did not dare ask yet where the 
child slept, but he thought it as likely as not that 
she occupied the same bed as either her foster- 
mother or nurse, and he fairly shivered He was 
going to remain in New York now most of the time, 
and would see Miss Steiner often. These things 
should be regulated in time. 

" It must be rather dear, living at the hotel, for 
three of you," he suggested. " What part of the 
expense do you think it right to charge to the 
child ?" 

It was very ill advised to broach the subject In 
that manner, but Stanley could not at all under- 
stand that. Things financial seemed proper to him 
at all times and under all circumstances. 

Miss Steiner flushed violently, and her indigna- 
tion got the best of her for a moment. 

** What part ? All of it !" she answered, with an 
air that strongly resembled defiance. " Rosalie has 
an income of at least $S,ooo. She has been left in 
my charge, and I do not intend to desert her. All 
the expense here is properly a part of her legitimate 
needs. It will come a good deal under her income, 
and I think any competent authority will admit that 
it is right she should pay it." 

He hastened to mollify her. 

** I did not say it was not, Miss Steiner. I only 
inquired, as I supposed I was at liberty to do." 

She saw that he had the advantage and hastened 
to assure him that she had meant nothing by her 
words. 

**! thought," she said, ''that yoo intended I0 
Inainuate— " 



"riBiB IS ▲ wicKBD onr.** #i 

**1 never insinuate," he interrupted. ''Wliea I 
have a statement to make I always do so openSy, 
There will be questions that I shall feel it my duty 
to ask you, from time to time. There will be things 
I shall consider it my prerogative to suggest. I 
trust they will always be received in good part, as 
they will certainly be offered. We have but one 
desire, I hope, and that is to bring up our charge so 
that she shall be a credit to us. When we differ upon 
methods, or upon matters of administration, we 
oaght not to allow ourselves to become angry." 

She had entirely recovered her equanimity, and 
said she was not angry, which Stanley said he fully 
believed. But there did not seem to be anything 
more to talk about at the time, and the conference 
came to a rather sudden close. 

** I can feel," said Miss Steiner to herself, after he 
had gone, " that we are going to have a hard time 
of it before we are through. When I found that 
Max had left Rosalie in the care of those two boys 
and myself I thought I should have her practically 
under my own care for the first five or six years. I 
almost wish that I had appealed at once to the courts 
&nd had an older person appointed, but perhaps that 
would have been no better. Stanley would have 
been indignant at it, and when he did come of age 
he would have managed in some way to get his 
revenge. There is a quiet, cold relentlessness about 
him, that makes one feel as if he could turn the 
handle of a vise without mercy if once he got an 
enemy's finger caught in it. And how totally differ- 
ent is his cousin. I must manage to see him befofv 
he sails, even if it is only for a few moments." 

Lysle had told her that he was going aboard tte 
gtmaasr that sight, at it was expected to start at n 



iS XOULDma A MAIDEN. 

Yory early hour on the following morning. Mm 
waited till after nine o'clock, and then was driven in 
a hired carriage to the dock. A messenger reported 
that Mr. Melrose was in the cabin, chatting with 
some of the officers, and she asked that he be told oi 
her presence. 

" I was out driving," she said, with slight prevari- 
cation, when he appeared, "and thought I mightget 
a moment for another good-bye with you." 

"You are very kind," he responded, heartily. 
•* Won't you come aboard a few minutes ? I should 
like to show you how nicely I am quartered." 

She consented, after a slight demur, and went 
with him to his state-room. The next few minutes 
were taken up with directions in case of sea-sickness 
and advice as from one who had crossed the ocean 
several times. But, while listening with due atten- 
tion to all she said, Lysle was fully aware that it 
was not to tell him these things that she had come 
down to the steamer. 

" How soon do you expect to be in Paris ?** she 
asked, finally. 

* Within a month. I go to Liverpool first, then to 
London, stopping at a few places on the way, and 
then to France." 

" Your arrangements in relation to your new home 
are all made, I think you told me ?" 

" Not exactly that. The master of whom I shall 
take my first lessons will guide me to ^pension. I 
shall beg-^n the study of the language at once, and 
being in a house where they speak nothing else will 
Delp me a great deal. I shall have to rely on 
Vyself, though, in case of an emergency." 

^e r^aided him with newly born affectioa 



*PABI8 18 A WICKED OnT.* 4li 

" And you will have no relation there, no mothtTf 
no sister ?" she mused, sadly. 

*' Oh, ^s for that," he answered, cheerf u Jly, " I bavf 
none here, either." 

Miss Steiner spoke with much feeling. 

" It seems terrible that you are going to Paris with 
no restraining influences about you. I do not sec 
what Mr. Dennin is thinking of.*' 

Lysle did not intend to have her sadness communi- 
cate itself to him. 

•* Mr. Dennin !" he echoed. " He has let me do as 
I pleased ever since he took charge of my father's 
estate. Probably," he added, smiling, " my good 
conduct thus far has encouraged him to trust me 
still farther." 

She put a hand on his shoulder and spoke impres* 
sively. 

** Paris is a wicked city, Lysle. Its temptations are 
a hundred times greater than you would encounter 
here. Be careful, won't you ? You know what 
wrong is, young as you are. I cannot talk to you as 
A should like, but you understand me. Live an 
upright life. It may be years before I shall see you 
again. Do nothing that you would be unwilling I 
should know.** 

She had become very earnest, and the tears stood 
full in her eyes. The light-hearted boy felt all that 
she meant him to feel, and when she stopped sud» 
denly and imprinted a kiss upon his cheek, it 
impressed him as nothing had ever done before. He 
did not answer her directly in words, but he had an 
att'tude of attention that satisfied her. 

" Good-bye,** she said, fearing to trust heraeU to 
•ay more. 



4i aOOIDISO A XAIDBK. 

"Good-bye,** be answered, brightly. * Taltt gootf 

care of Rosalie.** 

She smiled at that, wiping away the tears lest i 
one in the cabin should notice vhem. 

*• You are fifteen," she said. 

** Yes, and Stanley is seventeen.** 

She winced at the word " Stanley.** 

'*You need not write to him that t came to 
fou here." 

** I won't," he answered, and she was gone 
quickly as she came. 



CHAPTER IV. 

A SnCVER CEASING PRBSBDIB. 

Slo»»iy and ingeniously Stanley Melrose carried 
His points with Miss Janet Steiner, in relation to the 
manner in which the little Rosalie should be dressed, 
exercised and fed. He brought books on physical 
culture, on diet and on anatomical development, 
which she felt compelled to read. He took her to 
lectures on the same subjects, which seemed to have 
a basis of good sense. But what won the day was 
neither the books nor the lectures. It was the steady 
persistency of the young fellow, a never ceasing pres- 
sure of the kind that causes the roots of the elm to 
lift a heavy wall out of its place and topple down a 
building. 

There may be readers of this story who will cavil 
at the picture of a lad of seventeen exercising this 
influence over the mind of a woman of twenty-fivr 



A NEVES CEASINQ PBESSUBB. ^ 

There » a great difference, however, between lads Ok 
seventeen. Young Melrose was no ordinary boy 
His father had made him a companion up to the 
time of his death, which had occurred but four years 
previous to that of Mr. Vandenhoff. A good deal of 
his infancy had been passed on the plains, where the 
elder Melrose was engaged in the capacity of Indian 
agent. There he had learned the athletic habits of 
the Redmen and the frontiersmen, and when,|at the 
age of ten, he had left that life to assume that of a 
student in one of the Eastern schools, he surprised 
every one by the facility with which he imbibed the 
lore of books. In less than seven years from the 
day when he first entered school, with hardly any 
knowledge of the things taught there except reading 
and writing, he was ready for college. His brain and 
body were both powerful. He had no sick days to 
put him back ; no struggling with exhausted ener- 
gies. He knew but one method in life in dealing 
with obstacles, and that was to overcome them. It 
might be done in some cases by force, in others 
diplomacy was better, but it must always be done. 

Janet Steiner had been left, like the other princi- 
pal characters in this tale, an orphan at an early age. 
She had gone through boarding-school life in some- 
what straightened circumstances, and upon her 
graduation had taught children in the homes of 
wealthy people, who knew very well that she was 
forced to be dependent, and treated her with patron- 
izing kindness. Her soul rebelled in those days 
against the uncongeniality of her surroundings, and 
it was with positive pleasure that she accepted an 
invitation to take charge of two girls who were to 
spend several years in Europe, acquiring the modern 
languages and other accomplishments. When tbit 



so SXOULDINQ A MAIDEN. 

engagement came to an end, and the prospect of 
«nother term in some one's aristocratic home loomed 
disagreeably before her, the opportunity was given 
her to become a part of the family of Mr. Vanden- 
hofif. 

She worshiped the little Rosalie. Nothing that 
she believed injurious to the child in any sense 
would have been permitted. Stanley gained his 
points by convincing her that what he favored was 
best, and as the infant continued to manifest most 
remarkable progress. Miss Steiner soon came to 
follow his advice without protest or evasion. 

In three months after Lysle sailed for Europe, 
Stanley had succeeded in making her almost as 
much horrified as himself when Gretchen kissed the 
baby on the mouth or tossed her up in the air to 
make her throw out her little arms and crow with 
delight. He had rightly guessed that she occupied 
the same bed with her nurse, and he saw that this 
was stopped. A little crib expressly for her was 
provided, not cramped at all in its area, and yet not 
large enough for any one else to get into it under 
any circumstances whatever. A number of changes 
were also made in her clothing, which, while they 
certainly did not add to the attractiveness of her 
appearance, gave greater freedom to her limbs and 
more room for the expansion of her chest. 

When his college term opened Stanley engaged a 
room at the St. Nicholas for himself, and took up 
his home there. The room was one on the top floor, 
selected partly on account of greater economy, 
though, as he said, it was also the best part of the 
bouse for study. He was thus enabled to drop in at 
the Steiner apartments at almost any part of the day 
to make sure that his directions were being carried out. 



A ITBVEB CEASING PBESSnB& 9|. 

Miss Steiner was much disturbed wlien she flrtt 
learned that he was quartered in the hotel, for he 
had said nothing to her of his intention until it was 
accomplished. It seemed as if it would put her 
under a sort of surveillance that would not be 
agreeable. But Stanley was wise enough to be very 
circumspect in his movements at first. He never 
presumed to imply that he had any special rights ia 
the care of Rosalie, and prefixed each suggestion 
with, "Don't you think it would be a good idea ?'* or 
** Has it ever occurred to you ?" 

He had a great deal of studying to do, as he had 
determined if possible to take the four years' course 
at Columbia in three, but his methodical habits and 
the splendid condition of his health enabled him to 
accomplish all that he wished, and yet find abundant 
leisure to attend to the training of his little ward. 
His hab't was to rise at six o'clock in the morning, 
take a walk of an hour before breakfast, arrange his 
day by the most systematic movements, and to retire 
at precisely half-past eleven. As sleep came to him 
within five minutes of the time he touched the pil- 
low, and as he never woke once until the hour for 
rising, he had all the rest he wanted, and his health 
was superb. 

One of the first things he began to teach the child 
was the Indian virtue of stoicism. As soon as she 
was old enough to understand him he set about 
inculcating into her youthful mind the lesson that 
nothing is to be gained by tears or bewailing. She 
had learned to walk at this period, but was still 
unsteady on her feet, and had as frequent falls as 
other children, with resultant bumps and bruises. 
On such occasions it was the habit of Miss Steiacr 
or Gretchen, in their ignorance of the " true syslKoa^'* 



•i moa tmsa a maidbb, 

to run and pick her up, joining their latnentatloat 

in pretended earnestness to hers. He had watched 
this process several times before he felt it the part 
of wisdom to put in his protest. 

" Would you allow me to suggest, Miss Steiner,** 
he said, one day when they were alone, ** that 
Rosalie would soon learn not to fret over her small 
injuries if you and the nurse did not act as though 
you thought them great ones ? She fell twice on 
the soft rugs this afternoon and one of you ran with 
all speed to pick her up and sympathize with her. 
She cried each time much longer and louder than 
the extent of her hurt would have warranted. I 
think, hereafter, if you could bring yourself to let 
her entirely alone, acting as if you saw nothing 
worthy of notice in the affair, she would soon learn 
to pick herself up and go about her business. I am 
also inclined to the belief that it would ultimately 
reduce the number of her falls." 

Miss Steiner listened with womanly sympathy 
arrayed in protest against the ** heartless proposal," 
for so she viewed it. 

" One of those times that Rosalie fell to-day,** she 
answered, " I had to put vinegar and brown paper 
on the spot where she bruised herself. I should 
have thought it wrong not to mind a fall like that." 

He smiled incredulously. 

•* I do not like to differ from you," said he, ** but I 
am quite sure she would have been just as well off 
to-morrow morning if you had put on nothing at alU 
Every child is bound to have just about so many of 
these little bumps. It is a saying in the country 
that a child who does not fall out of bed before it is 
a year old will never amount to much in the workL 



A B<V£B CEASING FBESSUBS^ it 

Has Rosalie ever fallen out of bed ?" he asked, with 

a trace of humor in the question. 

" Once," she admitted, " on the steamer. It was 
• very stormy night." 

Then that danger is disposed of," replied Stanley. 
** Of course you don't imagine that I take any tA 
these old fables seriously. There are women who 
declare that a child who looks in a mirror before it 
is three will die before the end of the year, and they 
can bring instances where children have looked in 
mirrors and have died. But let me urge you to try 
my plan the next time she falls. Just pay no atten- 
tion to her, and watch the result.' 

Miss Steiner did not seem to favor the notion. 

** She might break a bone, for all we could tell,* 
she said. 

" And so you intend to examine her all over each 
time she trips up?" he suggested, good-naturedly. 
"You will have your hands full, and besides she will 
never learn that self-reliance which is one of the 
most valuable things that a child can be taught. 
Think it over. Miss Steiner, think it over." 

A few days after this, Stanley happened to be in 
the room when an accident occurred. Rosalie was 
toddling about from chair to chair, and in passing a 
small table caught at its cloth cover to steady her- 
self. Losing her balance, but clinging still to the 
cover, she fell to the floor, bringing down upon hcf 
all of the contents of the table, including a vase, 
which was shivered with a loud crash. Mis* 
Steiner, who was at the opposite end of the room, 
sprang up instinctively and was about to rush to 
the rescue, while Gretchen ran in from the next 
room with the same intention ; but Stanley nOi>^^e» 
lessly placed himself between them and the child 



M MOULOmO A. ilLAIDES. 

" I taw it all," he said, in a whisper. <* She is only 
frightened. The vase did not touch her. It is bet- 
ler not to notice.** 

Miss Steiner controlled herself with an effort. All 
her instincts would have led her to catch up the 
child and soothe its sorrows against her breast. 
Perhaps she thought Stanley was right. She 
motioned to Gretchen to leave the room, and slowly 
resumed her seat, though the loud cries of the little 
one smote heavily on her heart. 

Stanley had also become seated again and the 
room was in an apparent state of quietness except 
for the noisy babe, when Miss Rosalie found it 
dawning on her small brain that something unusual 
had happened. It was the first time in her brief 
recollection that she had fallen without being picked 
up and sympathized with, and when she got this 
fact clearly through her mental organism she 
evinced undoubted astonishment. Getting upon 
her feet with a celerity that proved that none of the 
leg bones, at least, were broken, sh^ made her way 
to Stanley's chair, and proceeded to call his atten- 
tion to the effects of the late catastrophe. He 
pretended to be so busily engaged in reading a 
newspaper that he could not listen to her, but when 
she persisted he put the journal down and gave her 
his attention. 

*' Baby fell,** said Rosalie, or at least she gave 
utterance to sounds which, with the accompanying 
pantomime, conveyed that impression. 

*• Ah !'* replied Stanley, as if it was of no special 
consequence ; and he proceeded to resume his 
reading. 

*' Baby hurt,** was the next statement, coucked im 
•iiniiar phrase. 



A NEVEB CEASn7G PSESSUSli 86 

•* AK rigbt," said Stanley, just as if she had called 
his attention to a new present. 

This did not meet with the child's ideas at all, and 
to convince him that she needed sympathy she began 
to cry again. At this he put down the paper and 
looked at her as if she had done something that 
excited his curiosity. 

Thus the game went on. Rosalie told him, in her 
baby way, that she had pulled the cloth off the 
table, and that she had been hurt in the process. 
And he told her that he saw that she had pulled off 
the cloth, and that it was not of the slightest inter» 
est to him or any one else in the world but herself. 
She could not speak a single intelligible English 
word, and she could hardly understand one, either, 
but he knew what she was saying to him, and she 
perfectly understood all his responses. 

Failing to make the impression she desired in that 
quarter she went over to Miss Steiner, but before 
she could get there Stanley had called attention to 
the success of his plan and begged the woman not 
to spoil the experiment. And so the child found 
another newspaper reader who did not seem to feel 
as great an interest in the recent accident as Rosalie 
thought she ought. The result was that the little 
one soon went about her play, as if nothing had hap- 
pened, to the great delight of Stanley, who exultantly 
called the attention of Miss Steiner to his success. 

Another thing that he insisted upon, in his quiet 
way, was that Rosalie should have an abundance of 
fresh air. Whether the day was fair or foul he 
wanted her to pass a good deal of it out of doors. 
When winter came and mercury in the thermometer 
dropped down into the vicinity of the zero mark, he 
had hard work to convince Miss Steiner that it was 



M MOnLOINO A MAIDBB. 

tafe to allow her little charge to face the elemesti^ 

but he had his way as usual, and the daily journeys 
were taken. Once, when the child caught a severe 
cold, he said it was the result, not of the exposurci 
but of the previous lack of it, and here also anothef 
©f his whims came to the surface. 

He would not consent that she should bare a 
physician. 

** Doctors should only be summoned in the most 
desperate cases," he said, oracularly. " To take a 
lot of drugs at such a time as this, and especially at 
such an age as this, would be to invite disease to 
become a frequent visitor. There is no way so easy 
to undermine the system of a little child as to put 
drugs into its system. That is all the doctor will 
do, if we call him. If he comes and we do not use 
his medicine, what will have been the object of send- 
ing for him ? If we do use it, we shall always bt 
sorry." 

**But if anything should happen," said Miss 
Steiner, with alarm, *' I should never forgive my- 
self." 

" Nothing will happen," he replied, ** that would 
not happen equally with a doctor here. Follow my 
advice and we shall come out all right.'* 

He thereupon with his own hands loosened Rosa> 
lie's clothiniof, applied water compresses, gave het 
a draught ot hot mixture and sent her off early 
to sleep That night he would not leave Miss 
Steiner's rooms, but watched the patient as carefully 
as a hired nurse or a loving mother. In the morning 
the child was better, and to the horror of the women 
be insisted that she should go out for her airing. 

** Wrap her up more than you usually do," he said, 
••and do not keep her out as long. Open the "vindows 



A KinrBS OSASINO PBSSfUBB. Vf 

«f yoar apartment so that it will get a thoroogh fitt- 
ing with fresh air while she is gone. It'a all ri^bt, 
I tell you. Half the people who die of colds do so 
because they stifle themselves up In the house when 
they are or should be on the road to recovery." 

She went out, and was as well as ever in a few 
days, and Stanley's star rose to its chiefest ascen- 
dancy. What made it doubly apparent that he was 
right was the sad death of another child living at the 
hotel, about the same time, who had been attacked 
with the same symptoms as Rosalie, and had beea 
kept indoors. 

From that day there was little interference with 
Stanley's plans. . As soon as spring opened he 
engaged a place for the child and her wardens up 
the Hudson, and later in the season exchanged it 
for another on the seashore of New Jersey. Before 
the close of his school term he went to see them 
several times a week, and during the vacation he 
made his hr^me with them. At this time he devoted 
a good deal of attention to the little one, staying 
out of doors with her nearly the whole of the day ; 
and under his care she continued to grow healthy and 
ruddy and strong. 

While they were at the shore he had a little bath- 
ing suit made for her and used to let her paddle in 
the water at the usual bathing hour. When he 
went in himself he would sometimes take her out 
where it was deep enough to float, and so thoroughly 
had she learned to conquer alarm that she seemed 
to enjoy even this strange amusement. He would 
hold her by the waist-band, and make her strike out 
with her little arms and legs until she was almost A 
swimmer, though only two years and a half old. 

He did not in the least encouiage her in her efforts 



•• MOULDING A MAIDSM. 

to talk, as most fond parents and guardians think k 
their duty to do. She understood by this time all 
that he felt it necessary to say to her, and she could 
answer " yes " and " no," which was quite sufficient 
As he had said to Mr. Dennin, he regarded her at 
present as nothing whatever but a little animal, and 
one that was not kept, either, for purposes of exhibi- 
tion. Miss Steiner and Gretchen may have talked 
** baby language " to her when in the solitude of 
their own chambers, but it seemed to make no 
impression on her mind. Stanley's mentality domin- 
ated the child as it did her elders. She soon learned 
to prefer him to any of them, probably because of 
the natural path into which he led her. 

Thus passed away the first year, and the second, 
•nd the third. When Rosalie had reached the age of 
four years no handsomer child could have been found 
within a thousand miles, judged by the truest of all 
standards — health, form and complexion. 

Stanley was now twenty years of age. He was a 
tall, athletic fellow, full of subdued fire, ready to 
conquer the rest of the lions in his way as he had those 
already met. At commencement day he received the 
parchment which proclaimed him an alumnus of 
Columbia, and he also had special mention for the 
thorough manner in which he had passed his exam- 
inations in a year less than the ordinary time. 

** I am going West now for a few months," he 
said to Miss Steiner, "and I want to take Rosalie 
with me.*' 

She was used to odd ideas of his with reference 
to the child, but this one staggered her for the 
flioment. 

** I do not see how I can go, just now,** she began. 

** It will not be necessary," he responded, abruptly. 



A ITBTES CEASmO PBESSTTRE. 69 

•I can get along with Gretchen. I wish to see th« 

frontier again, where I lived with my father for so 
long. It will do Rosalie good to breathe the air of 
the prairies and to see a little of the wild life there." 

She breathed a sigh. 

" Oh, well, I will go," she answered. ** I could not 
think of permitting her to take that journey in the 
charge of a nurse alone." 

" You seem to forget," he said, loftily, " that / am 
going." 

" But you are a man, and Rosalie is a girl." 

" I am a man — at last !" he answered, drawing a 
deep breath. " Rosalie'is a child — feminine, it is true, 
but still a child — nothing else. There is not a thing 
that you can do for her that a nursemaid could not, 
but if you wish to undertake the hardships, I cer- 
tainly have no objection." 

Within a year he would be twenty-one, and pos- 
sessed under the law of equal power with her. She 
did not like to p^o to the frontier — did not like the 
idea of Rosalie's goitig — but she thought it was best 
to accede. It used to come over the woman with 
awful force sometimes that after he had attained his 
majority she would sink into a mere cypher in th« 
account, and that he would then have his way with, 
out even taking the pains to consult her. Rosalie 
would grow older, and by-and-by it would become 
unbearable. 

There was only one bright ray of hope in this dark 
sky, and that was Lysle. He was within two years 
as old as his cousin, and in case things grew desper 
ate she could call upon him to help her. She used to 
figure out the ages, showing how Rosalie would be 
eight when Lysle was twenty-one and Stanley tweaty* 
ti»r«e. And she trembled at the long years that 



60 MOULDING A XAIDUb 

would Still elapse between that time and thtdfty 
when Rosalie would reach her own majority, and 
come into undisputed possession of her property and 
herself. 

Lysle wrote to her occasionally — not often— from 
Paris, where he still remained. He did not answer 
the questions that were uppermost in her mind, or 
give any hint by which she could guess them. But 
he told of his studies, and of the progress he was 
making, and said he was more certain than ever that 
he had chosen the profession calculated to give him 
the greatest happiness. She wrote in reply that 
Rosalie was growing big and strong, and never 
hinted that there was any trouble brewing between 
her and Stanley. It would be time enough to tell 
him those things when he was old enough to be of 
some use to her. 

The three western bound travelers crossed the con- 
tinent by easy stages, stopping a few days on the way 
at Saratoga, Niagara, Chicago and Omaha. At last 
they found themselves quartered in a little hotel on 
the edge of the Indian territory, where the accommo- 
dations were simply vile and the surroundings almost 
unbearable to a lady just from the comforts of life in 
the metropolis. 

** How Rosalie and I shall enjoy this I" said Stan- 
ley, with enthusiasm, as he gazed up the ravine, on 
the morning after their arrival. ** It all brings back 
to me the happiest period of my life, when I was 
under my father's care, and had no more to trouble 
me than the pigeons or the yellow-birds. Rosalie 
and I shall like it," he repeated, ** but it will not be 
nice for you, Miss Steiner, as I told you before w« 
kft New York. I hope you will feel at full liberty 
to return whenever you weary of it." 



▲ STUDY -FROM. THB MUOB* W^ 

His words were not unkind, nor was hit manaerd 
ttttering them, but they made her feel more wretched 
than she had felt for years. 

* Come, Rosalie," he called to the little girl, wto 
flew to meet him. ** I am now going to show yea 
the Indians and horses, and everything that is wild 
and free.'* 

And together they left the woman, the hand of the 
child in his. 



CHAPTER V. 

A STUDY FROM THE NITDB. 

What was Lysle doing, all this time, in Paris ? 

He was drawing and painting, and learning the 
French language, and making many friends, as he 
was sure to do wherever he was located. He was 
growing a little taller and heavier, though it was 
evident that he would never possess the wonderful 
physique of his cousin Stanley. He was now eigh> 
teen years old, slender, slightly pale, with the face 
of a poet and that half-abstracted air that only the 
true artist owns. 

He could speak French so well that many of his 
acquaintances supposed him a native of one of the 
departments. He had studied other things, toc^ 
beside the use of the brush, the mixing of colors^ 
and the shading of lines. He had tied himself down 
for a certain number of hours each day, under the 
care of a private tutor, and he had done well. Hij 
painting master, M. Jouanneau, was eathusiastttg 
^out hbn. and predicted a c&reer. 



v» mocuasa a haidb>« 

With all these things to occupy fats time, Lysle 
still found opportunity to walk on the boulevards, 
and to take little dinners with parties of students and 
others, the latter mostly in the Latin Quarter, in the 
neighborhood of which he resided. These affairs 
were usually attended by a number of grisettes 
attached by more or less strong bonds to their 
masculine escorts, and some of the proceedings 
weie of a nature that had best not be recorded, 
Lysle's handsome face appealed to many of the sus- 
ceptible young women whom he met at these places, 
but it soon came to be recognized that they could 
expect no more of him than a pleasant word or a bit 
of conversation. He never lectured them, never 
criticised their mode of life, but there were bounds 
to the freedom which he permitted, and they learned 
to know and respect them. He walked amidst the 
gay life of Paris like the Hebrew children in the 
fiery furnace, without the smell of the flames so 
much as touching his garments. 

There were many young men in the set to 
which he belonged who held masculine virtue as a 
thing for gibes, but they made an exception of Lysle 
in everything. There were girls there who would 
have considered any other lad of his years a dunce 
for a constant refusal of their caresses, but ti;ey did 
not mind it in Lysle ; indeed they liked him the 
better for it. If he had lectured them, or acted as 
if he despised them for their mode of life — that 
would have been a very different affair. But he 
used to sit at the table with the rest, or in a box 
with a party at the theatre, or in a Sunday carriage 
m the Bois, joining in the merriment as long as U 
was of aa innocent nature, and refraining from cooft* 



A RTJDT FBOM THB IfTITDS. fS 

flsent when it passed the bounds of his ideas of 
decorum. 

Had he been ill any of them would have tended 
him as though she were his sister. Had he fallen on 
times of financial hardship, not one would have 
refused to share her narrow means with him till he 
was out of need. When he came into a room where 
a parcel of them were gathered it was a contest 
which should get him nearest to her. 

*' Here is your seat, Lysle !" a dozen of them 
would call, in chorus. 

Knowing him and his habits so well, none of the 
men felt the least jealousy of him, and he grew a 
stronger favorite as the years went by. 

Sometimes a new comer to the always changing 
circle tried to rally him on his " goodness." They 
were delighted when a letter fell from his pocket 
addressed to " Miss Janet Steiner, St. Nicholas 
Hotel, New York," and a shout arose that Lysle had 
a sweetheart in America, about whom he was so 
reticent, and that this accounted for his oblivious- 
ness to the charms of the fair habitu6s of the 
Quartier Latin. Upon this, Lysle told them in sim- 
ple language the story of his cousin Vandenhoff's 
will, and of his being one of the guardians of the 
infant Rosalie. And, though some of them found it 
vastly amusing, most of the girls thought it very 
lovely, and asked many questions as to what the 
child was like, and what he intended t<j do with her 
when she grew older. When he said he hoped his 
ward would after a while be brought to Paris for 
her education, several of the girls cried out In 
earnest protest. 

** No, no !** they exclaimed. ** Keep the H^tle one 
•ut of this wicked citj t We know how It It 



M mauLDDXQ a xAnna. 

here. Let her stay in America, where the womta 
are virtuous. They ar^ all virtuous there, are they 
■ot, Lysle ?" 

And Lysle blushed, and said he hoped so, but 
in such a gentle way that no offence was possible. 

Arthur Peck, formerly of the Brooks Academy, 
came to Paris in that year, when Lysle was eighteen, 
and ran across him one evening at a little res- 
taurant in the Boulevard San Michel. They had 
parted warm friends, it will be remembered, but 
Arthur was so glad to see an acquaintance that 
he forgot the disagreement and came over to 
where Lysle sat and greeted him with great 
cordiality. Lysle, on his part, pleased that Arthur 
seemed to have resumed his old warmth towards 
him, rose to take his hand, made a place for him 
at the board and introduced him to the circle by 
whom he was surrounded. Arthur could not speak 
a hundred words of French, but what he had seen 
of Paris delighted him beyond measure. It was 
that part of Paris, by-the-way, that Young America 
seems destined to know long before he can find her 
art galleries or monuments, and Arthur thought the 
party that Lysle had presented him to one of the 
brightest he had yet encountered. 

**y^* aim^/es amgncatns" sai6 one of the girls to him. 
In that soft dialect of the grisette that does not need 
translation. Her last lover had gone home at the 
•nd of his college term, and she was seeking for a 
new one. In an hour she led the boy away a will- 
ing captive, and the next day he came to the address 
that Lysle had given him, wildly enthusiastic in her 
praise. 

** I never can tlianlE yoa enough,** he exclaimed, ** fof 



•« 81<U1>T FBOM fHB NUIXB. •■ 

that introduction. She is a perfect darling. I bovt 

made arrangements — ** 

" I beg you," responded Lysle, flushing at tht 
thought that he had unconsciously acted as • 
go-between, ** not to give me any further particulars. 
I had no idea when I presented you to my friends 
that anything else would follow, and I must insist 
in knowing nothing at all about it." 

•* You don't mean to say," began Arthur, ** that 
after being three years in this paradise, you have 
escaped — " 

" I don't mean to say anything about it,** was the 
quiet reply. ** Tell rac when you left home, and 
what your plans are.** 

The young man thought this leaving a very inter- 
esting subject to take up a very dull one, but he 
remembered the Lysle of former days, and knew 
there was no use in getting into an argument with 
hisn. 

*• Well,** he replied, ** I stayed at Brooks a year 
after you did, and then went to Yale. Somehow 
Yale didn't agree with me and my father took me 
out. We agreed that all the Greek and Latin that 
could be got into me wasn't worth the trouble, and 
after drifting around Baltimore for awhile, I made a 
suggestion that quite met his views. You know the 
old man is interested in electricit}*. He is engaged 
in telegraph schemes and has several inventions that 
have brought him a pretty pile of cash. But he 
isn't contented to sit down and enjoy what he has 
•arned. He must keep on with his experiments, 
and they will eat up the whole of his fortune yet, I 
am afraid. He has got two of the craziest ideas 
.low that you ever could dream of. One of them is, 
that people are going to be able to talk into a tube^ 



m maewaa a maioev* 

which win reproduce the sounds when carried to a 
distance ; and the otiier is that street cars and 
small machinery can be propelled by an electric 
current faster and cheaper than by horses or steaoL 
When an inventor gets an idea into his head nothing 
will shake it out, and all I had to do was to see if 
there was any chance for me before the last dollar 
went. I read in one of his magazines that electrical 
science was making great strides in France, and I 
suggested to the governor that it would be a great 
scheme to send me over here to study with these 
Frenchmen, and see if I could not get on to their 
plans. He bit at it like a shark — and here I am.** 

Lysle was not over pleased with this story, as it 
indicated an unfilial disposition that he was far from 
admiring. He said he hoped Arthur bad succeeded 
in finding the place he sought. 

** Oh, yes," laughed the other. ** I found It last 
night, in the Rue Champolion.** Then seeing a 
frown gathering on Lysle's face, he added, " I don't 
intend to hurt myself with hard work or study, you 
can make your mind up to that. I am just going to 
work the old gent for all I can, and have the best 
time of my life. It is only a week since I came here, 
and I never saw a plaoe that pleased me so welL 
That Madeleine whom I met with you is entrancing. 
I am going to live at her hotel, and by her aid I 
shall learn the language fast enough, if nothing else. 
I never saw — '* 

Lysle was trying hard not to get impatient, but 
Arthur's persistency annoyed him exceedingly. 

** Once for all, I won't hear anything more about 
St !" he said, firmly. 

Arthur reddened and kept bis t«mp^^ «**<i dll> 
•culty 



▲ STUDY TROiS. THS NUDS. ^f 

•Ah, well, never mind/* he responded. **Yott 
liave done me too good a turn for me to quarrel 
with you. I must be going." And he was off. 

Lysle was sorry. It seemed as if he was 
destined to make an enemy of Arthur. He went 
back to his studies with an abstracted air that did 
not escape the attention of his kind old master. 

" I am very happy to-day," said M. Jouanneau to 
him. **I have secured for my life class one of tht 
finest young models ever seen in Paris." 

** Ah, that is good !" exclaimed the young artist, 
all his gloom disappearing. ** Who is she?" 

** Her name is Mile. Clothilde Jouet. She recently 
came to Paris from the neighborhood of Albi." 

** Her age ?" asked Lysle. 

** About fifteen, I should say. But her form, tmm 
dieu ! Old painter as I am, it is enough to set me 
raving. No Venus was ever more perfect. You 
shall tell me this afternoon if I am wrong." 

Lysle looked at M. Jouanneau in a dreamy way. 
He was seeing the girl in the vision of his mind. 

" How did you secure her ?" he asked, presently. 

*' Her mother came to me. She told the usual 
story. They are very poor and came to Paris in the 
hope that they could better themselves. Theif 
little stock of money is gone, and nothing appeared 
to confront them but the workhouse. The mother 
happened to read in a bit of paper that came 
wrapped around some kindling that good prices 
were paid for models, and some one directed her %m 

The young man waited a moment. 
** She has never poeed before^ Umo f 

-» ^» M 



68 MOULDIN© A MAIDESf. 

** That is bad. She will probably make a fuss 
about undressing." 

" Possibly she will, a little, for a day or two. But 
her mother will come and go with her, and you 
know the odd feeling wears off very soon.*' 

•* Shall you pose her nude to begin with ?'* 

** Undoubtedly. It is by far the best way.'* 

Lysle took his pencils and went to work, dismissing 
the new model from his mind. It was not a rare 
occurrence to see new models in the studio of M. 
Jouanneau. There was a large class, and the subjects 
treated embraced a wide range. When noon came 
he went out to get his breakfast in a neighboring 
restaurant, and when he returned he found a woman 
of about forty years of age, accompanied by a young 
gfirl, waiting in the studio. M. Jouanneau had also 
gone to breakfast, and the concierge had showed 
the couple in, according to directions left with him. 

"Mile. Clothilde and her mother, I presume," said 
Lysle, pleasantly, 

"Yes, monsieur," responded the woman, 
** Madame Jouet, at your service." 

" Make yourself at home," said Lysle, in an ofif- 
hand manner. " The master and his students will 
soon be here." Then, noticing that there was a look 
of alarm in the eyes of the girl, he added, kindly, 
"You will be a little confused at first, mademoiselle, 
but it will wear away rapidly. In a week you will 
think nothing of it. M. Jouanneau is rery consider- 
ate. He will not allow you to tire yourself." 

Clothilde whispered to her mother, as Lysle 
crossed to another part of the room, and the woman 
spoke again. 

* I hope the gentlemen will not expect my daughter 
to expose hsrself very much on the first day. Sbt 



4 flTUDT FBOM THS mJIKB. W 

U a good girl, monsieur, and she has never Deen is 
such a situation before." 

Lysle turned and looked at the girl, who blushed 
scarlet. He hoped she was not going to be silly. 

** I assure you," he said, " that entire nudity it 
best. There will be seances later where we shall 
want but a part of her form. But at the beginning 
the whole is required. M. Jouanneau told me this 
an hour ago, and I trust you will make no objections 
before him. He would not like it, and possibly he 
would get impatient." 

The girl clung around the neck of her mother and 
whispered to her again. They had a conference that 
lasted for some minutes. 

" You will have to submit," said the mother, in a 
low voice, which was not low enough, however, to 
have the words escape Lysle. And the girl 
answered, with a sob, " Oh, I cannot !** 

The young man, with well meaning good nature^ 
went over to them and tried to give her courage. 

•* It is nothing — absolutely nothing at all," he said. 
** You will be on that little platform there, and not 
one of us will come within ten feet of you. Your 
mother will sit within call. Every model has these 
feelings to some extent at first, but in a few days 
they laugh at them. You could not earn five francs 
an hour more easily. Why, you have nothing to do 
but assume a position. We poor fellows have all the 
real work, and we get nothing for it, either," he con- 
cluded, with an idea that a little humor would 
brighten her up. 

All this did not satisfy the girl, and when M. 
Jouanneau arrived, the mother made an appeal to 
him to allow the first pose to be in partial drapery. 



10 aOULDINa ▲ UAIDBB. 

Clothflde, though she did not speak^ made tilt tame 

request with her frightened eyes. 

•* Tut, tut !" cried the old man. •* I talked all tbb 
over with you yesterday, when you brought your 
daughter here. You will get ten francs for two hours, 
and probably thirty or forty francs a week for a long 
time. It is not wise to be squeamish, mademoiselle," 
he added, turning to the girl. " Let me tell you that 
we do not pay money here for nothing. You must 
have a little bravery for once or twice and it will be 
over. I have seen thetn so often V* 

*' But she is a virtuous girl, monsieur !*' said the 
mother, in a last effort to move him. 

**So were all the rest, I suppose," he answered, 
roughly. ** One must have been good some time, I 
should think. Well ! Is she going to pose or not? 
The students are already arriving." 

Another whispered consultation, a repressal on 
the part of the girl of a tendency to burst into tears, 
and then the mother and daughter disappeared 
behind the curtain that served for a dressing-room. 
The class took their places, discussing among them- 
selves the latest news of the studios and galleries. 
The clock on a bracket in a corner ticked off the 
seconds, and M. Jouanneau became impatient. 

** M. Melrose," he called, at last, " will you see how 
soon she will be ready ?" 

Lysle went to the curtain and propounded the 
question. The mother answered that the girl had 
disrobed and was only waiting for the requisite 
courage to present herself. 

** Pshaw I" he replied. " She will never appear if 
the waits for that She exhibited herself before M. 
Jouanneau yesterday, did she not ? It is quite the 
tame thing.** 



A snrm nou ths vuBtu ft 



Then, for the first time, the voice of the giri 

heard. 
** But he is such an old man ; and all the rest td 

you are young !" 

Lysle laughed in spite of himself. 

** If you are ready, I will tell him to come and poM 
you," he said. 

M. Jouanneau, upon being informed that Mlleu 
Clothilde awaited him, pushed his way without cere- 
mony behind the curtain, and in a few minutes had 
placed the girl in the position which he wanted— 
that of a maiden asleep on the seashore — with the 
necessary scenery about her to represent the sands 
and the waves. 

" Don't be a dunce, now,** was his adjuration, 
** when I draw the curtain. Your eyes will be shut, 
and you will not know whether anyone is looking at 
you or not." 

A murmur of admiration arose when the curtain 
was drawn, for a class of artists could not help being 
moved by the exquisite beauty of the girl. M. 
Jouanneau had posed her in the natural attitude of 
easy slumber, with one of her legs drawn under the 
other and her cheek resting on her rounded arm. 
Her hair, which was of unusual length, was floating 
across her like a mantle, concealing nothing, and yet 
appearing to be, in a sense, a shield for her young 
charms from the attack meditated by the boisterous 
waves that were just beyond reach. The charcoal 
pencils were soon busy, and the room was almost as 
still as a tomb except for the scratching sounds that 
they made. 

M. Jouanneau had to go to his model two or three 
times and whisper to her : 

•* Try to assume a little more ease." he said. * You 



IB M ttO LPDW A. XAIDBB. 

draw 3roonelf into an annataral positkm by that 
excessive shrinking. Is there anything I can do for 
you to make you more comfortable ?" 

** Ah, monsieur," she answered, faintly, ** i yo» 
would only g^ive me a blanket V 

He smiled and returned to his class. After the 
first half hour she became evidently easier, and the 
master silently called the attention of his pupils to 
the fact, directing them to remedy the stilted lines 
which she had compelled them to draw. 

** Let me compliment you, mademoiselle," said the 
old man, in a low tone, going to her side. ** You 
have taken a magnificent position. Do not change 
it for the next hour, and I will g^ve you two francs 
extra.'* 

Mile. Clothilde did not reply, and he gave her a 
closer inspection. The warm air of the place and 
the reliet from the extreme strain, a restless night 
and the fright of her first moments, had done its 
work. Her rosy mouth was partly open, displaying 
a ravishing row of pearls. Her position was indeed 
magnificent, but the reason was quite apparent. 

The girl was sound asleep ! 

Those of my readers who have seen the painting 
of the ** Sleeping Girl," now know the secret of its 
delightful naturalness. 

When the lesson of the day was ended the model 
ftill slept As M. Jouanneau had an engage- 
ment that compelled him to leave, he told Lysle to 
give Madame Jouet twelve francs and ask her to 
bring her daughter on the following Thursday. All 
the other students had left the studio, glad to get 
i^in into the fresh air, when Lysle went to perform 
this errand. M. Jouanneau had closed the curtain 
btCorc the model at the end of the seance, and in his 



4 aruDi vmM tern wsnm. IB 

baste had forgotten to apprise Madame Jouet that 
the affair was ended. Lysle found the gfirl still 
asleep, and as he gazed on her warm beauty he felt 
a thrill that was not wholly that of the artist. He 
knelt by her side for some seconds before he awoke 
her. Then he touched her very gently on the face 
with his hands. 

''The stance is ended, mademoiselle," he said* 
•* You are at liberty to go.** 

Clothilde opened her eyes and stared at him for a 
moment in wonder. Then her memory returned 
and she was plunged into the most intense confusion. 
She tried in vain to conceal herself, and was ttoabla 
to utter a single word. 

** You have been sleeping," he said, gently. ** I 
will speak to your mother." 

Madame Jouet received his message with satisfac* 
tion and went to her child's assistance. When they 
were both ready for the street he gave the mother 
the twelve francs and with it a compliment for the 
girl's pose. 

" It has pleased M. Jouanneau much,'* he said. 
•* He will give your daughter a good deal to do, and 
after he is through with her he can doubtless secure 
her other engagements. Do you wish to see the 
drawing I have made ? It was a splendid thing that 
she fell asleep." 

** ComQ Clothilde,'* responded the mother, ** let us 
look at it. The young gcjitleman is very kind." 

The gir. hung back nowever. Her cheeks were 
fiery red. She wanted nothing so much as to get 
away from the plsce. The mother spoke to her 
sharply. 

** Yeu are not paiite, Clothilde ! They have gtvea 



%^ MOULDZNO ▲ liATT>gH. 

OS twelve francs, when the bargain was for ten oaly. 

You must look at the picture.** 

Lysle saw the frightened look reappear in the girl's 
lace. 

**It is not necessary,** he hastened to say. 
" Another time will do, when the colors are in iL 
You must not mind this so much, mademoiselle," he 
added, kindly. *' You will think nothing of it aftera 
few times." 

She thanked him with one look of her eyes. 



CHAPTER VL 

A GREAT STORY BOOK. 

Stanley Melrose was so pleased to be again on tha 
frontier that he prolonged his stay into the autumn, 
In spite of the frequent suggestions of Miss Steiner 
that it was time they moved eastward. Rosalie was 
as happy to be there as he. The wild life that he 
led her into charmed the child. Young as she was, 
she learned to ride the Indian ponies, galloping up 
and down the prairie fearlessly on their bare backs, 
clinging to the reins and the animals' manes without 
the least alarm. She baited her hooks and caught 
the little fish in the streams. She had foot races 
with the children of the aborigines, and sometimes 
out-ran them. Her face took on the color of the 
wind and the sun. She carried herself even more 
erectly than before. She was indeed becoming a 
superb '* little animaV as Stanley had designed thai 
she should 



▲ OSBAT WSOmZ WMK. li 

All this pleased the young guardian, but the train* 

ing was carried to an extent not wholly agreeable to 
the elder one. She did not object to having Rosalie 
developed in her muscles and lungs, but she begaE 
to tear that the child would form a love for a wild 
life that nothing could eradicate. 

** You will make an Indian squaw of her at the rattt 
you are going on," she remarked to him one day. 

** 1 would rather make an Indian cAie/ of her,* 
was his reply. 

** But I cannot allow it," said Miss Steiner, rally- 
ing her mental forces for the conflict that she knew 
was inevitable. 

** Ah, you cannot V* he answered, etevatiog hit 
eyebrows. 

" No," she insisted. " Rosalie is a girl, and thare 
are limits to the training of a girl that you do not 
seem to recognize. When she grows up she will be 
an heiress and a lady. You are in danger of making 
a tomboy of her and I fear she will never be able to 
eradicate that tendency from her nature if the life 
she is leading goes on much longer." 

He could never wholly conceal the contempt that 
he felt for women who professed to have opinions. 

** * An heiress and a lady,* " he repeated, quoting 
her words. " I hope she will not also be a fool, and 
she shall not be, if I can help it." 

Miss Steiner wondered whether there was a covert 
allusion to herself in this statement, but she was 
too earnest in the matter she had in hand to mind 
trifles. 

^ You will admit, I think," she said, ** that it would 
not be becoming in a young lady to do all the thia|^ 
Rosalie has been taught ?" 

** What things ?" he asked, laconieallf. 



fS ttsvwora A UAmmtL 

** Riding hones bareback, for Inttaoce.** 

^Nov** tie assented. ''It would be bett«r for i 
jpoung lady to use a saddle. But let me teL )ro« 
tiiat a superb seat is gained by beginning in the 
way Rosalie has, and that when her time conies to 
fide in Central Park, or the Bois de Boulogne, she 
will have no rivals. How many American women 
know how to ride ? How many of them even know 
bow to walk ? Rosalie is keeping all of her joints 
supple. You can see for yonrself the state of health 
she is in. Compare her with the first puny product 
that you meet of the Fifth Avenue hot-house style of 
raising children, and you will be compelled to admit 
her superiority in every respect." 

She felt a certain truth in what he said, but it did 
not alter her opinion that he was going to an 
nnnecessary length. 

•• Where are you going to stop— that is what I 
wish to know," she said, 

•* I am not going to stop at all. I am only going 
to alter my course, as she matures, so gradually that 
she will not know when the change begins. I rely a 
great deal upon the child's common sense, which is 
being developed with the rest. I am now giving her 
a physique that will stand by her through life. 
There is really nothing else that you can give a child 
of her age with advantage, except the qualities of 
endurance and courage that naturally come with it. 
Do not imagine, merely because she has inherited 
money, that she is different from children who have 
no expectations. She has as good a right to take the 
fresh air deep into her lungs as any little savage on 
the reservation yonder. The dollars that are wait« 
hag will be no equivalent for the bodily streng^th 
^n would deny her. She can already lift more thav 



▲ QBEAT STOBT B(X». 7? 

ber weight with ease. As her muscles harden she 
shall learn to increase her capacity in that direction 
till she can carry four times as much. She can swim 
like a duck, an accomplishment that may save her own 
life or those of others, one of these days. It is now 
'unladylike,* I know, to be able to do anything o{ 
use in the world, either for herself or her friends, 
but there is soon coming a reaction. The girl of 
the future will not be ashamed of appearing like a 
sensible creature." 

He could always talk so glibly, and there seemed 
nothing ever gained by arguing with him. 

" She will have many other things to learn," ven- 
tured Miss Steiner. "When I was her age I could 
read ordinary story books. She does not even know 
one letter of the alphabet from another." 

" I am glad of that," replied Stanley, rather 
ungraciously. " I was afraid either you or Gretchen 
might have taught her. The Great Story Book that 
she is reading here in the West is better illustrated 
than any to be bought at the shops. She has 
learned one thing of value in your parlors, the 
facility with which she speaks German. I should 
like her to acquire French in the same way, with no 
grammar or exercise book to tire her little brain. A 
well educated French maid is one of the things I 
mean to get as soon as we reach New York." 

" Then we are soon to return ?" she asked, in a 
pleased tone. 

" Oh, yes, I suppose we must. If I had only Rosa- 
lie to consider, though, I should say stay till spring. 
It would be good for her to experience a Western 
winter. I have talked to her about it and she is 
wild to remain, but we shall have to postpone it tik 
some other year." 



n WfULDma A MAXDMN. 

" What would become^of your law studies m ths4 

case ?" she asked. 

** In case I stay here ? I should go on reading the 
books I brought, four or five hours each day, as I 
have already done, and take the lectures next year, 
I have no fear of being refused admission to the 
bar when it is time for me to apply." 

Miss Rosalie rode up to the window where this 
conversation was being held, and at a signal from 
Stanley, reined in her pony so suddenly as almost to 
throw him on his haunches. Slipping to the ground 
with a celerity that sent a thrill of alarm through 
Miss Steiner, she ran laughing into the house, her 
face aglow with the excitement of the exercise. 

•* A band of Indians have just brought in six deer !*' 
the cried, as soon as she opened the door. " They 
•re going out to-morrow to find another herd. I 
wish you would let me go with them, Stanley !" 

She always called him by his given name. Whea 
Miss * Steiner had remonstrated, long ago, he had 
said that he preferred it, and that settled the matter. 

" What would you do on a deer hunt ?" he asked* 
*• You couldn't shoot a deer.** 

•* I could sec the others.** 

" You cannot go." 

The child had been taught never to show the least 
disappointment at any refusal or rebuff. 

" We were talking of you," said Stanley. " Miss 
Steiner thinks it nearly time we return to New York* 
I suppos*; you would rather remain here." 

**Yes," said Rosalie, simply. 

•*But we shall have to go in a few days." 

«Very well." 

•• That is ali. You can go out to play again now." 
^ When the child had disappeared, Miss Steinef 



A GREAT STORY BOOK. 19 

eould not help saying that the willingness of Rosalie 
to do whatever she was bid seemed almost unnatural, 

" When I was her age," said she, *' I probably 
should have cried my eyes out at such a disappoint- 
ment." 

" Very likely," he answered, with cynicism. " But 
let me ask you if children who are thus reared are 
any happier than others who are taught as she has 
been ? What is the best preparation for a lifetime 
that is sure to be full of trials ?" 

" It is hard to think," she replied, " that a life like 
that of Rosalie need be full of trials. The fortune 
that she will inherit ought to free her from most of 
the troubles of the world." 

Stanley Melrose liked controversy, and it pleased 
him to be able to answer her as completely as he felt 
able to do. 

** Let me tell you again," he said, " that there is no 
greater folly than to consider that certain people 
are bom with less need than others to develop all the 
strength, mental and physical, that is in them. If 
they are rich enough to ride in a carriage, that is no 
reason they should not learn to walk. If they can 
hire a servant to cut their food and place it in their 
mouths, it is not wise, nevertheless, for them to neglect 
to learn the use of their hands. Though they may 
inherit millions, there will always be some ung^atified 
wish, unless they are taught in infancy to limit their 
desires to things attainable. Rosalie has been made 
to resign every thought not in consonance with her 
reasonable environment. You see what my system 
has done for her physical health. Help me to give 
it equal effect on her mental qualities.* 

Miss Steiner could never argue long with him, but 
there waf always an unsatisfied feehng, when sbe 



•0 momjxaa a nunm, 

acquiesced in his views. She had the womanly lovt 

for infants as infants, and she found that there 
Was nothing left of the baby nature in Rosaliei 
Sometimes at night an irrepressible desire came over 
her to take the child in her arms, and undress her, 
rocking her to sleep afterwards with one of those 
lullaby songs of the German tongue that she knew 
so well. But Rosalie showed an invincible repug- 
nance to " coddling " of any sort. She could undress 
herself, and when she had placed her head upon her 
pillow there were not ten seconds left before she had 
relapsed into the satisfying oblivion that comes with 
a healthy body and mind. Miss Steiner was obliged, 
therefore, to be content with sitting by the little 
bedside and watching the quiet face. Even attempts 
to pass her hand gently over the child's curls were 
not successful, as the slightest motion made her stir 
like a cat, and her blue eyes would open and stare 
at the intruder on the calm peace of her slumbers. 
Seeing who was there, she would immediately relapse 
into deep sleep again ; but not liking to disturb her, 
the hand of the watcher would be kept away. 

Rosalie was the best child that ever lived in all 
things that depended on obedience and good nature. 
The indefinable characteristics of infancy were want- 
ing, however, and Miss Steiner had many a lonely 
hour in consequence. 

She had brought a baby from Europe, and allowed 
this man to take it from her by slow degrees. Had 
he given her something better in its place ? She 
tried to think he had. If it were not better for her, 
it might be for Rosalie. It was her duty — as a 
guardian — to think of the child s best good instead 
of her own. 

They packed up and bade farewell to the Indian 



A OBBAT STOBT BOOK. 8i 

country — Stanley and the child with heartfelt 

regrets, the woman with devout thanksgiving. It 
did not seem as if she could have endured the viis' 
comforts of a winter there. She was more than 
pleased when she saw the inside of her rooms in the 
St. Nicholas again, and when Gretchen's broad 
German countenance looked in upon her. The girl 
had spent the summer with relations that she had 
discovered in Pennsylvania, and was very glad to 
get back to her former mistress. Stanley noticed 
with satisfaction that the child submitted with evi- 
dent discontent, though she endeavored to conceal 
it, to the embraces of her nurse. He had made her 
what he meant to do, a strong young animal who 
did not need petting. 

If Miss Steiner expected to have much more of 
Rosalie to herself, on coming to the city, she soon 
discovered her mistake. Stanley studied late at 
night and attended his law school lectures, but he 
found time, so active was his capacity for work, to 
be a great deal of the day with his little ward, and to 
take her out with him for many hours. It mattered 
little what was the state of the mercury in the ther« 
mometer to these famous pedestrians. When it was 
very cold Rosalie wore slightly heavier clothing, and 
when the snow or slush made the streets less smooth 
she put on stronger boots and leggins. It was one 
of his theories that a healthy child ought to be able 
to walk almost as much in a day as a grown person, 
and his experience with Rosalie certainly went far 
to prove it. Before the winter was ended there were 
occasions when he came home tired and found her 
still willing and anxious to continue the walk. The 
two figures came to be very well known on Broad- 
way and in the Park, and many ladies turned to 



IS vouLomo A uaidbh; 

look at the rosy-faced child and utter an inward wisk 

that their puny darlings at home had such a com> 
plection. 

"Isn't it too cold for you on a day like this?'* 
asked a kind lady once, as they paused to look into 
the great windows of a store in which was a hand- 
some display of pictures. 

Rosalie looked up at her in wonder. 

" There never was a day too cold for me,** she 
responded. 

*' Good gracious !" exclaimed the lady. " I have 
a little girl at home who would not go out on such 
a day as this for anything." 

"Then she must be ill," said Rosalie, thoughtfully. 

" 111 ! No, she is not. She is as well as any one. 
But it is very cold. The thermometer registers ten 
degrees above zero at this moment." 

" 1 think it is lovely," was the child's response. 
And as she resumed her way with her guardian, the 
strangeness of the new idea struck her forcibly. 

" Too cold, Stanley !" she said. " How could it 
ever be too cold ?" 

He smiled down upon her approvingly. Her 
replies to the lady had pleased him. 

" Some people pay a great deal of attention to the 
weather," he said. " It is always either too cold or 
too hot for them." 

" It is never for me," she answered. " Sometimes 
the air in our rooms at the hotel is too close — it 
seems as if the life was taken out of it, and I find it 
hard to breathe — but I never mind the weather out of 
doors. I would have liked to stay with the Indians 
all winter, and have slept in one of their tepees. 
There would always be plenty of air there, and the 
smoke from the fire in the centre would look so 



A 6SBAT 6T0RT BOOB. tt 

lovely on a frosty day, curling up through the open- 
ing at the top !'* 

He made a mental note that he would speak to 
Miss Steiner about the atmosphere that Rosalie was 
compelled to breathe, vitiated as it was by the 
requirements of a false notion of comfort. Perhaps 
the child slept in a room which had its windows 
fastened. He wondered that he had been so long 
neglectful of such an important thing. What a pity 
it was that Mr. Vandenhoff had put a woman in his 
list at all ! Stanley was quite certain that he could 
have done much better by the child if he had had 
her solely in his own control. Then he remembered 
that he was still under age, a reflection that always 
annoyed him. 

" Next year," he said to himself, " that trouble will 
be over." 

One day, when there was a terrible storm, and 
the streets were really impassable, he had a long 
talk with the child in his own rooms at the top of 
the house, where she considered it a great treat to 
be allowed to go. She asked him a great many 
questions about the books that were piled on his 
shelves, and learned for the first time that the earth 
was round and that it turned on its axis every day. 
He had a large globe there, with the countrief 
marked off on them. 

" Can you show me the place where my cousin 
Lysle lives ?" 

He had never heard her mention Lysle's name 
before. 

" What do you know about Lysle ?'* he inquired, 
with curiosity. 

** Oh, Mi^ Steiner talks of him often,** respooded 



M MOULDINO A MAIDEN. 

due little one. "She told me he was in Franob 
Will you show me France on these maps ?" 

A strange jealousy of his cousin came over him, 
but he pointed out the place to her, and also the 
city of Paris. 

•* He is coming here some time, is he not?" was 
her next statement. 

" Who says that ?" 

"Miss Steiner. She says he is coming whenever 
she wants him — perhaps next year. Stanley, do 
you know what I would like very much to do ?" 

He shook his head. He was thinking very hard. 

*• To learn to read. I am sure there is a great 
deal in books. I have to ask so many questions 
now, and if I could read I could find out for 
myself." 

He did not answer immediately. His thoughts 
were on Paris. He knew that Lysle and Miss 
Steiner were correspondents. They were arranging, 
perhaps, to dethrone him. He had never been fond 
of his cousin, but at this moment he liked him less 
than ever. 

** It will be a good while before you learn to read,** 
he said, at last, recalling what she had said. "You 
will have to learn to speak French first, and to do 
other things. I am going to get you a teacher very 
soon who will teach you French, and you must apply 
yourself very diligently to the study of it." 

"Yes, Stanley," she responded, cheerfully. "And, 
after that, I shall learn to read books ?" 

" After that," he repeated absently, '* you will 
learn to read." 

He was still thinking of his cousin and Miss 
Steiner. They might plan and plan, but he would 
•tttwit them I 



•*! IN) WOT WANT TO SAT." li 

CHAPTER VIL 

"I DO NOT WANT TO SAY.* 

The next year had no event of greater importanct 
to Stanley Melrose than the fact that it made him 
twenty-one years of age, and relieved him of that 
period of under-guardianship that he so much 
detested. It is true he had suffered little from the 
restrictions of Mr. Dennin, and had been permitted to 
do about as he pleased in all respects by that indul- 
gent gentleman. It is equally true that, owing to the 
yielding nature of Miss Steiner, he had had control of 
Rosalie to the fullest extent. But Stanley was a 
young man who chafed under the slightest restraint, 
even though it were only imaginary. The happiest 
day he had ever seen was that spring morning 
when he awoke and said to himself — 

"Stanley Melrose, you are no longer an infant. 
You are a Man, and no one hereafter can say to you 
that they have the right to control your actions or 
your property." 

Stanley knew, long before that day, exactly what 
estate his father had left him, and in what it was 
invested. It gave him a new delight, however, when 
the documents were placed in his hands, and he 
became their permanent custodian. He was not rich 
as riches are reckoned in these days, but he had a 
goodly sum of his own, and he loved money. He 
had planned time after time how he would increase 
the sum, and how little it would be necessary to 
•pend before his coming practice should bring him 



m wxouasa a mattoctt. 

in a handsome income. It was one of his ambitions 
to become one of the rich men of New York, He 
wanted also to be one of its most noted lawyers, and it 
was his pleasure to think that the two objects could 
be attained together. He knew that the income of an 
eminent member of the bar was a very large one, 
and he determined to lay aside all other thoughts 
imtil success was achieved. It was not hard for him 
to make this resolve. Quite the opposite in disposi- 
tion from his cousin Lysle, he had no sentimental 
notions to strangle. He cared nothing whatever 
for luxury, and women never troubled him. All he 
wanted was Money, and Fame in his profession. 

One of the first things he did was to get the 
whole of Rosalie's fortune ** into better shape," as 
he expressed it. It had largely been reinvested 
under his advice, several years before, but Miss 
Steiner had kept a restraining hand on the young 
man, and the changes were all such as the most 
prudent could have approved. Now that he had as 
good a right as she to decide, and the greater 
natural opportunity to judge, being interested in 
the market as an investor of his own funds, the 
lady offered little opposition to his plans. He 
could show her that the alterations in the invest* 
ments that had been made before by his suggestion 
had resulted in a large increase of income, and she 
had no reason to doubt that his judgment w^as gain- 
ing with his years. It was not on a question of this 
kind that Miss Steiner had fears of Stanley. 

The proverb that " Nothing succeeds like success,** 
is one of the truest. Men who learned that Melrose 
had enginered a deal in Harlem lands that had 
doubled the money of all who went into it with him, 
weal home and made wills naming him as executor 



*1 00 HOT WABT TO tAT^ 8T 

and trustee of their estates. Managers of institu* 
tions which had funds drawing small rates of 
interest came to him and asked that he take charge 
of them. He was elected a director of two banks 
within six months and placed on several commis* 
sions usually given to much older men. Business 
people who watched his methods said he was not a 
speculator or a plunger. He never went into any- 
thing unless it was a sure thing. 

" Will you take some of this stock ?" one merchant 
would say to another. " No, I am afraid of touch- 
ing anything outside of my legitimate business," 
would be the answer. ** But young Melrose is at the 
head of the company." ** Ah, that alters the case. 
How much can I get of it ?" 

The business world was glad to notice that Mel- 
rose had none of the fast habits that seem to come 
naturally with success to many men. He smoked 
one cigar a day, after dinner. He drank only a lit- 
tle wine, a glass of claret with his meals, or of cham- 
pagne, if invited, at a directors* meeting. His head 
was always cool and his hand steady, just the sort of 
a fellow that you would like to trust your interests to. 
He lived at a good hotel — he thought it wise to do 
that — and wore good clothes, never extravagant 
ones. His garments were usually black, which gave 
him an air of earnestness, and his heavy watch chain 
helped to strengthen the impression that he was io 
no sense a trifler. 

When he rose to speak at a business gathering, all 
conversation ceased. His words were few and to 
the point. When he took the chair, as he soon was 
frequently elected to do, there was no delay in the 
transaction of the matter that had called the party 
Sogether. The meeting was to be, let us say, at fov 



So IKNJLDINO A MAtDEK. 

o'doek. Upon the stroke of the hour he rapped for 
order. Everything was settled, perhaps, at half* 
past four. If so, at 4:31 Mr. Melrose had left the 
room. His associates whispered to each other that 
he was a very busy man, had large estates to man- 
age, and no time to waste. All of which was ulti« 
mately of great advantage to him and brought hi m 
much business, out of which he reaped handsome 
profits. 

Stanley studied hard at his law books, and never 
missed passing the highest examination point. He 
drank in the subtleties of legal provision and stored 
his mind with statute, decision and exceptional case. 
He had only one recreation, as he said to himself 
one day, and that was the care of Rosalie. 

The little g^rl was now nearly six years old, as 
strong and healthy as ever, and subjected to the 
same training in physical things as she had been 
from the first. No other child in New York, outside 
of a museum, at least, could run as fast, jump as far, 
lift as many pounds as she. Her young muscles 
were almost like iron. She was a perfect stranger 
to fatigue. She did not know the feeling of an ache 
or pain. Her skin was bronzed by exposure in ail 
seasons to the weather. Her eyes were bright, her 
body slender, her form straight as an arrow. Hav- 
ing been taught never to indulge in repinings, she 
did not lament for the things she could not have, 
and no one had seen a tear escape her eyes since her 
babyhood. 

Stoical as the Indians from whom her guardian 
had modelled her, she yet had a kindness of heart 
that made her willing to sacrifice any wish or any 
pleasure for those she loved. Without the coyness 
that we have learned to consider inseparable from 



"t no mot WAST id •am." W 

Alldhood, there was a straightforward honesty that 

ivon friends. Rosalie did not know how to wheedle. 
She had as yet no idea of the construction of a false* 
hood. Her principal offences were thoughtless bits 
of mischief, of the turpitude of which she was not 
fully aware. Stanley had his own way of dealing 
With such lapses. It was part of his theory that no 
one should ever speak angrily to a child, or even in 
its presence, and as fo; blows, they were not to be 
thought of. 

An instance of his manner of dealing with her may 
be worth recording. The child came up to his room 
one day when he was absent, supposing that he was 
there. The open grate was filled with a collectioa 
of rubbish, principally papers that he intended to 
destroy. Rosalie thought it would be good fun to 
set these on fire and watch the flames rising up the 
chimney. She lit a match and applied it to the 
heap. When Stanley entered the room, he saw her 
standing so near the burning mass that it was a 
wonder her dress did not ignite. Perhaps in a 
moment more it would have done so. She was so 
enrapt in the sight before her that she did not hear 
his step, a remarkable thing in a child whose senses 
were always on the alert. He saw the delight that 
she was experiencing, her bright face testifying of 
the mental sensation that was possessing her. 

** Rosalie," he said, in his ordinary tone, when he 
had taken a chair, " come here a minute." 

She turned and saw him, and at that moment it 
came into her head for the first time that there 
might be something wrong — she did not know wha^ 
— in the liberty she had taken. She walked over to 
where he stood, and the rosy hue m her face 
f»ot wholly that of the fire she had left 



J9 MDULDUrO ▲ ifAinmi. 

*What do yoa think I am goli^ to sa^T kt 
asked. 

There was nothing in his voice or his manner to 
indicate whether he was or was not pleased. It was 
his way to leave that as far as possible to her own 
perception. 

** I think there is something not right about the 
fire I have kindled," she answered, looking him fear- 
lessly, but a little regretfully, in the face. She was 
not like a child who anticipates a blow, either mental 
or physical. 

** You are right," said he, gravely. ** Now, what 
Is it?" 

She turned and looked at the ashes in the grate 
and the bits of paper that were still undergoing the 
process of consumption. 

"I hope," she said, "that there was nothing ol 
value there. I think you would not put any papers 
in that place that you wanted to preserve." 

The language may appear stilted, to the reader, 
coming from a child of six, but Rosalie had never 
played with other Caucasian children, and her 
speech was that of her elders. 

*• You are right so far," he said. ** The papers 
were of no use and I intended to destroy them with 
§re, as you have done." 

She seemed much relieved, for she would not have 
liked to injure anything that was his. 

•* It could not hurt the grate — nor the chimney," 
the repeated, slowly, " for the grate was built to hold 
fire and the chimney to hold smoke. Perhaps— 
perhaps it made the room too warm on such a daf 
as this r 

He shook his head. 

** Can you think of nothing else ?" he inqnirad, 



**! oo laor wuunr 10 mmx** tl 

• No^ Stanley.* 

** Let me show you,** he said, rising. 

He found another lot of papers similar to the first* 
and when the grate had cooled sufficiently he stuffed 
U full of them. Then he took a match in his hand. 

•• Let me take your pinafore." 

She took it off and gave it to him without a word. 

•* Now," he said, " stand and watch." 

He applied the match to the paper, and when the 
flames had reached their fullest heignt, he permitted 
them to touch the pinafore, which was immediately 
in a blaze. It burned so rapidly that he was coni> 
pelled in a moment to throw it upon the pile and 
let it be destroyed with the rest. 

•* Now do you see ?" he asked. 

•* Yes," said Rosalie, soberly. " I might have set 
fire to my pinafore, and then to my dress, and 
then—" 

She shuddered a little, stoic as she was. 

*' And then," he repeated, " to your body. Yoil 
were very near to the fire when I came in." 

He sat down after that and talked to her for a 
long time about fire, its dangers and its uses ; the 
best servant of man, and his most terrible master, 
iirhen once it is allowed to get the upper hand. He 
told her ot the varying combustibility of the pro* 
ducts of nature, which enables us to place this ele* 
ment in some of them with perfect safety, while i£ 
it comes in contact with others the greatest harm 
may ensue. She listened to every word, grateful 
for the pains he took to teach these things to her. 

** I think I am much to blame for lighting the fir^** 
she said, when he paused. 

•*you would be if you did it again," he said. 
^There has been no way in which you would be likelf 



PI SCNJUKBG ▲ lUn>BK. 

to iesm vhat I haTe jn&t told you until now. TIm 
rooms in this hotel below this floor are heated by 
tteans pipes and the fires are In the basement. But 
there is another thing that this may teach you, and 
that is not to try experiments. It would be better to 
inquire about things than to go ahead and find out 
for yourself. Now, we will say no more on this 
tnbject. Tell me how you are getting on with your 
French governess." 

Stanley was delighted, when Rosalie had gone, as 
he reflected on the nature of his experiment. Nine 
people out of ten, he was sure, would have thought 
it necessary to assail the child's ears with loud and 
violent langfuage, even if they did not strike her. 
It was a case where desperate remedies would be 
lilcely to be considered a kindness. He had accom* 
plished the same results with a few gentle words 
and an appeal to her intelligence. She would never 
light a fire again, he was sure, knowing the danger 
of standing too near it. 

When she came down and Miss Steiner asked her 
what had become of her pinafore, Rosalie related 
how and why Stanley had burned it 

** And he did not scold you at all ?*' said th« 
woman. 

** Stanley never scolds me !" was the quick reply. 

There came an anxious thought, one that madQ 
the woman propound a question that she dreaded to 
have answered. 

** Oh, Rosalie, do you love him better than you do 

mtr 

The child stopped to consider, for she was emin- 
ently truthful. 

•* I do not want to say,** she replied. " It seems to 
■M tiMt he is the wiser. Would it have done any 



**I DO IKft WANT TO SAT." W 

good for him to have scolded me ? Could t hvve 

understood better ? He knew that I would not have 
lit the fire if I had thought there was wrong in it. 
Stanley is a very wise man, Miss Steiner— a very 
wise man, indeed." 

Yes he has taken her baby from her and given 
her back this prematurely aged girl. It might be 
the best thing for the child, but she missed tha 
clinging arms and the infantile confidences that sho 
had dreamed of. Was it possible that he was right 
and that all the rest of the civilized world had beea 
wrong from the beginning ? 

*' What makes you think that Stanley is wiser than 
I ?" asked Miss Steiner, keeping up the conversatlo* 
in spite of her judgment to the contrary. 

"Because he knows so much," was the answer. 
* He told me the other day that the world is round, 
and that it goes flying through the air like a great 
bird." 

** Anybody could have told you that." 

** Yes, but no one except Stanley could hav made 
me believe it !" 

The strangeness of this reply was enough t» 
ensure silence for the next few minutes. 

"Your cousin Lysle is also very wise," said 
Miss Steiner, when she was ready to resume. " And 
he is very handsome." 

Rosalie had noticed that Stanley did not seeta \» 
think much of Lysle when she mentioned his name 
that morning, and this was enough to give her tha 
cue. But she did not think that he would like to 
have her communicate her suspicions to Mlaa 
Steiner. 

"What can he do that is woadarfair ilM 
la^niredt incredalovslf. 



M MOITLDINe A MAIDPI. 

* Rt Cftn paint beautiful pictures." 

•• Tiiat is nothing," was the disdainful answer. * I 
have seen ordinary looking women doing that in th« 
galleries. Could he break a wild young stallion, at 
Stanley did, when we were in the West ? Could he 
swim across Lake Koonoola ? I would not like a 
man who spends his time painting pictures." 

The woman was getting deeper and deeper into 
the things she meant to avoid. 

*• Stanley spends most of his time now studying 
law books. Is that better than painting the lovely 
things of nature?" 

*'When one studies," responded the child, ** one 
learns things. It is necessary for a lawyer to know 
all the laws, if he intends to talk to the big judges. 
But it is not necessary to paint pictures." 

There was no reply to this. Miss Steiner felt the 
bitterness of her position. She had become a cypher 
long before Rosalie was old enough to array herself 
with Stanley against her. Even her hopes in Lysle 
received a severe shock as she realized that the girl 
herself preferred Stanley and his methods to her. 
Technically the law gave them equal authority over 
the child, but his was now really the supreme, if not 
the sole one. To attempt any other disposition of 
the guardian^ip meant a collision, and she was not 
yet willing to brave that. 

Early every morning the man and child went for 
a long walk. When he had to leave for his business 
and »aw school work he arranged it so that Rosalie 
should go directly to her French teacher, with whom 
she remained practically all the time till he came 
back for his early dinner. 

Rosalie spoke German to Miss Steiner, English to 
people about the hotel, and French to her new 



*1 so HOT WABT TO SAT.** M 

ggfi ti H€ii . It was remarkable how rapidly tiM 

acquired the latter tongue. She mastered nouns^ 
verbs and idioms with a facility that was astonishing^ 
At dinner she spoke all three languages indiscrimiO' 
ately, and Stanley encouraged her to talk with th« 
utmost freedom at that meal, when most children of 
her age are either excluded from the table, or mado 
to preserve perfect quiet. After dinner she would 
take another short stroll with him, and return to 
retire early. Miss Steiner soon felt as if she had 
lost her altogether. 

In the summer Stanley took Rosalie to the shore 
again, his rapidly increasing business not making it 
convenient to go back to the frontier, as he had 
intended. He tested her swimming capacity in the 
breakers, to the consternation of half the onlookers 
and the admiration of the other half, who saw that 
she rode as safely on the waves as any expert among 
them. He taught her to pull an oar, to catch all the 
kinds of fish that were to be had there, and to climb 
the mast of a small yacht and stand on the roand* 
tree. She had practiced on ordinary tree-climbing 
for a long time, and thought this exercise delightfuL 
Declaring that the rooms of the hotel where he 
stayed were too stufify and hot for human beings, he 
slung hammocks for Rosalie and himself on one end 
of an upper veranda and they slept there out of 
doors in all weathers, having only an awning af 
shelter from the rain. 

People newly arrived used to say — 

** I hope he won't kill that child with his toughen- 
ing process !" 

There seemed no danger of this, however, judging 
Iqr the rosy cheeks and rounded form of the littla 
firi, who preserved intact the perfe«>' «i«altk she had 



Im»«glit to America. When antnmn came, Staslfy 
ttill objected to having her learn to read. It would 
always be easy, be said, for her to acquire that 
art He wanted her to speak French and Germas 
perfectly before she touched bocks. Although this 
idea was very novel to Miss Steiner she raised no 
formal objection. If she had, it would have made 
no difference. 

The next autumn passed, and the following wintes; 
with no changes of moment. Miss Rosalie and hef 
two oddly matched guardians stayed still at the St 
Nicholas, pursuing the tenor of their respective ways 
much as they began. By spring the child spoke 
French quite as freely as she did her own t«ngue, 
and in German she conversed like a native. Stanley 
had been admitted to the bar, and hung out his 
iign with great satisfaction from one of the big 
dowU'town buildings. His reputation as a saga- 
cious investor continued to grow apace. Business 
flowed in upon him until he was obliged to hire 
several assistants. Partnerships in some of the 
oldest firms in the city were thrown in his way, but 
he declined them all. He preferred to make his 
money alone and to keep it. 

When still another year had passed, his voice had 
been heard more than once in the law courts, always 
in civil cases, and where large sums or great 
interests were involved. His luck held to him and 
•early every verdict was in his favor. Still less 
than twenty-three years of age, he held a position 
that a man twice as old might have envied. 

The first unpleasant news that he had heard in 
months was when Mr. Dennin dropped in on him 
one day to say that Lysle was coming home. 

* H« is tweaty-oiie now, and will have charge of 



ursiDE OF BOHxaoA. 97 

hit fortune,** said Mr. Dennln. ** If he takes mf 
advice, he will give it to you to invest. Mr. Melrose^ 

you are a wonder." 

Stanley did not hear him. 

He was thinking of his cousin with a mind akin 
to that with which men regard a rival in an affair fif 
Love! 



CHAPTER VIIL 

INSIOK OP BOHEMIA. 

Lysle Melrose had passed these years quietly in 
Paris, the south of France, Italy, and in excursions 
into other parts of Europe at vacation time. He had 
learned to do good work, such as not only his mas- 
ter, M. Jouanneau, but critics generally applauded. 
Several of his efforts had received honorable men- 
tion at the salons. He had a delicacy of touch that 
some said was the foundation of a new school. 

Still the companion of the bohemian men and 
women of the gay capital, he was still unspoiled by 
them. Disposed to be serious, he might have 
become misanthropic, had it not been for the 
society of those who went to the opposite extreme. 
He was inclined to be introspective, and the 
laughter, the jests and the general buoyancy of 
spirits that he met with relieved his mind. As to 
the private characters of his associates, what were 
they to him ? These boys and girls were not inher* 
ently wicked. They violated every rule of propriety, 
as laid down by the canons of social law, but they 
4id not obtrude themselves into the society whose 



ft IfOULDmOl ▲ JLIIDSV. 

rules they broke. They were a separate order of 
civilization, and at least much less tiresome than the 
other orders which looked down upon them with such 
a severe frown, and which might be, after alL if the 
whole truth were known, very little better themselves. 

Lysle had been obliged to attend some of the 
receptions given by the," upper circles" of Paris to 
the artistic world, and he was obliged to confess 
that they bored him extremely. He could see, also^ 
that a patronizing vein ran through these affairs, as 
if the wealthy givers of them wished their artist 
gruests to understand fully that they were really of 
quite another station, permitted to come near the 
priests of the god Mammon because of his momen* 
tary condescension, and not from any merit of their 
own. To turn from a formal night in some rich 
fool's parlor to one passed in a restaurant of the 
commonest description in the Quartier Latin was a 
relief and a joy. 

Few among his friends in Bohemia were as well 
off in the goods of this world as was Lysle. Most 
of them were in semi-straightened circumstances, 
depending for to-morrow's breakfast on a delayed 
remittance from home or the chance sale of a 
picture that might bring fifty francs or so. The 
women of the party were nearly allgrisettes, though 
occasionall)' there was present some feminine artist 
whose struggles for a place in the temple of fame 
had brought her upon a common battle-ground with 
her brothers of the brush and pallette. 

The grisettes were of the typical kind, attached 
followers of the fortunes of their temporary lovers, 
willing to share their failures or successes, and 
expecting to bid them farewell one day as a mother 
bids farewell to the child over whose coffin the earth 



dflDB or BOHEMIA. 

is thrown. But few of them seemed to think of 

such a thing as the morrow, as they sat about the 
tables each evening, and ate their soup and drank 
their wine. If Lysle had more silver than the rest, 
its only sign was in the generosity with which he 
allowed himself to be mulcted by his more needy 
acquaintances. He never showed it in the superior 
quality of the viands hq ordered, and he was carefui 
not to attract attention, either, by being better 
dressed than the others. Of all the funds that he 
drew, fully half went in charity, disguised usually as 
** loans.'* Probably he was sometimes imposed 
upon, but generally he knew full well that the sum 
he was asked for was sorely needed. Often he gave 
without even a request to some poor girl whose 
bien-aim6 had gone his way and left her penni- 
less. 

"Come to see me," they would say to him, some- 
times. " You must be lonely in Paris, with no 
swee^iheart to keep you company," 

Then, when he declined with a darkened brow, 
they would add, gayly : 

" I am afraid, Monsieur Lysle, you will never sec 
your silver, then." 

One girl was so importunate, after accepting 
money from him, that he was missed more than a 
week from his customary place of dining. He did 
not care what these people did, he only wanted them 
to refrain from directing it at him. 

When he came back, he found her there with the 
rest, eating a plate of soup and a piece of bread, 
that constituted her only meal. Some one whis* 
pered him that Suzette was still in trouble, and that 
she would be turned out of her room the next day 
mnless she had ten francs for the landlord. He took 



]M MOULDOrO ▲ MAIDSV. 

pftins to intercept her in a side street, on her vny 
back to her home, and offer her a louis. 

** I will not take it," she said, with flashing eyes 
•* You treat me as if I was a beggar !" 

•* But you surely need it !" he answered, gently. 

** Listen,** she said, defiantly. *' To-morrow, unless 
f have ten francs, I shall be turned out of doors, but 
I will not touch your money, because you think 
yourself above me.*' 

He hastened to assure her that she did him an 
Injustice. 

•* I know better,** said she. ** You knew that I 
lived with Andr6. You knew that I loved him. He 
has gone to his people. That is all right. We know 
that when the time comes they all go. He had not 
much to give me. I do not blame him. He thought, 
I suppose, that I would soon get another lover. I 
am not ugly. Now, I have not had enough to eat 
for two weeks, and shall be turned out to-morrow 
unless I have ten francs. But I will not be a beg- 
gar. I will not take money unless I can repay it in 
some way.'* 

" You had best take it," he said, still holding it 
cut to her. 

" I will not !" 

**And you will let them turn you out on the 
«treet ?" 

** No,'* she answered, recklessly. 

She had a lovely face, of the brunette pattern, and 
he thought, as she looked at him, what a model it 
would make for a picture that he had long desired 
to paint. All the sentiments wanted were portraj^ed 
there — pride, indignation, desperate resolution. He 
knew what she meant to do, and he dreaded her 
fotc. It if almost as terrible to the real Parisiaii 



fNSIDB OF BOHBMU. lOA 

grisette to walk the boulevards in quest of prey AS 11 

would be for the average wife. 

" I am an artist," he said at length, "and I have • 
friend who would pay you well to let him draw your 
face. Come to my studio to-morrow, and I will 
introduce him to you. You must not do silly things. 
You will be sorry as long as you live if you carry 
out the ideas you are forming." 

She found the idea of having her face transferred 
to canvas very amusing, and she laughed lightly. 

" What does he want — a witch ?" she asked. " Or 
does he intend to paint a starving girl ? I have 
eaten hardly anything for eight days. If I go on he 
might use me as a model for a skeleton." 

Lysle felt her manner grating on him. 

*' He wants you, just as you are," said he. " Only 
it would be better for you to come with a good 
breakfast in your stomach, as the sittings are weary- 
ing. Take this louis, as I tell you. You can pay it 
back to me in a week, if you wish. I will not refus* 
to take it, if you have earned it honestly. He only 
wishes to draw your face, and he will certainly givt 
you four francs an hour." 

The girl paused to think. 

"Only my face?" she repeated. "But I had 
handsome arms, too, when I had plenty to eat" 

" Then begin eating again," he said, smiling, "and 
perhaps he may want to use them, also." 

The strange idea that she could be utilized as a 
model had driven the anger from Suzette's mind, 
and before he left her she was persuaded to accept 
the louis as a loan, and to promise to come the next 
morning to his studio. 

When she arrived there, she found him with hit 
pencil ready. To her request for the friend he hiul 



spoken of, he replied pleasantly that he himself was 

the artist who wanted her. He attempted to explain 
the motive of the picture that he desired, but her 
anger broke forth again, and she overwhelmed him 
with reproaches, at the same time dashing on his 
floor the silver remaining from the louis that he had 
given her. 

** You are one who tells lies I" she cried. **I ought 
to have known better than to believe you ! All you 
have called me here for is to get an excuse for mak- 
ing of me a beggar last night ! I will get your mis- 
erable gold for you again before I sleep !" 

And thus she went on, without a pause, for many 
minutes. 

For a long while Lysle did not seem to hear her. 
He had taken a stool and was busily at work on his 
canvas. Occasionally he looked up and took a quick 
glance at her face, but he made no reply to her rav- 
ings. He only worked on, apparently oblivious of 
all the exasperating things she was saying, lost in 
the ardor of his labor. For some time she did not 
seem to know or care whether he listened or not, 
but when she had freed her mind of its store of 
venom, it dawned upon her that his attitude was 
indicative of contempt, if not of ridicule. At this 
she flew into a more violent rage than before, and 
catching up a paint knife that she found handy she 
sprang toward him like an insane person. 

He was just in time to avoid the onslaught, and to 
catch her by the wrist. 

**Oh, why did you do that?" he exclaimed, 
reproachfully. " I am afraid it will spoil every- 
thing!" 

She followed his eyes and they rested on his can' 



nnroB op bohieiojl IDV 

vss. Her face was drawn there, in all its fury and 

scorn. 

** It is splendid !** he said, releasing her. ** If you 
had only kept that pose for ten minutes more ? I 
fear you can never go back to it again.** 

Her astonishment overpowered every other feel- 
ing. 

** You were drawing a picture of me T* 

** Undoubtedly," he answered, with mingled regard 
and pride. " I would gladly have paid five louis to 
have completed it. I shall get a medal at least if I 
can make it what I wanted. Why did you touch that 
miserable knife ? The minute your hand rested on 
it, every feature in your face changed." 

*' You are a coward," she hissed, ** to insult a 
woman ! You are a cur, that is what you are, and if 
I had a lover I would make you fight him !" 

*• My poor girl !" he exclaimed, stricken with 
remorse. Then he gazed again at his canvas and the 
artist's enthusiasm overcame every other feeling. He 
stretched out his hands to her, but she drew indig- 
nantly away. She was not to be placated. " Let me 
persuade you to listen to reason," he said. " It is 
quite an honorable profession, that of a model. It is 
a fine thing to have your picture hung in a good 
place in the Salon, Many a titled lady would be 
glad to have that distinction. It is not charity. I 
could get much more than I should pay you for the 
work when it is done, but I never sell anything. I 
only paint for the love of it, and for the Fame that I 
hope to get when I am older. You are a superb 
model, Suzette. Say you will engage yourself to 
me." 

The girl did not intend to be mollified so easily. 

** After you have insulted me ? Never t" 



IM vocLDnro a uusam, 

* It was necessary/* he replied ** I did not mcaa 

anything I said, why, of course not. There is no 
reason why you should hate me just because it is 
my business to paint pictures. You are a foolish 
girl if you go out of here in a state of anger. I will 
gladly give you a good salary for weeks if you will 
do as I bid you. What do you care, so long as you 
get an honest living ?" 

She looked at him with a strange expression, 

** I am not a model," she said coldly, ** I am only 
a grisette.** 

** But," he replied, " I will soon make you one. 
You have a type of beauty that is rare to find. 
When your face is lighted up with any emotion it is 
positively entrancing. You do not understand, but 
when I have finished your picture you will see 
why it is worth money to me. Come, have sense ! 
How much did Andr6 allow you ?" 

She hesitated some time between her resentment 
and her inclination to forgive him, and said at last 
that she used to have fifty francs a week, which 
included the rent of the room they both occupied 
and their breakfasts. 

" It is not too much," said Lysle. " T will pay you 
the same. All you will have to do will be to give 
me sittings four times a week, for an hour or two. 
Is it a bargain ?" 

There was a very long pause. 

** I will come because I am starving, you under- 
stand," she said. ** But T do not like it. I am a 
grisette, and I want the life of my class. What 
shall I do in the evening, or on Sundays .' I cannot 
go to places alone. I will sit for you because I do 
not like hunger, but as soon as I can do better, you 
will lose me. I 'k) not fancy going on the boule* 



INSIDE OF BOHXMIA. 19ll 

vards alone. I am afraid I could not do it. I will 

come to you. Only, I hope it will not last long." 

Lysle was content. He worked hard every day 
on his new painting, hiding it from all of his com- 
panion artists, and even from his dear friend and 
master, M. Jouanneau. He still attended the life 
classes of his instructor, which drew from the nude 
each Tuesday and Friday afternoons. And at one 
of these he saw a new student who was not unknown 
to him. It was Arthur Peck. 

He had not seen Arthur for a long time, and he 
was much surprised to find him here, in the r6l« of 
an artist. He had no reason to believe that the 
young man had any talent or experience that should 
lead him in his direction, and he was not long in 
making up his mind that the novelty of the sight he 
was to witness, and not any love of art, had drawn 
him there. Worshiping his profession most ardently, 
Lysle felt that the presence of a mere inspector on 
such an occasion was an insult, and hastened to 
make his protest to M. Jouanneau, who was still in 
his own private studio. 

M. Jouanneau told him that he knew nothing about 
Mr. Peck, except that he had applied the day before 
to join the class, and had paid the fee demanded. 
If it were true that he was no artist, and had come 
merely as an idle spectator, he would return him 
his money and ask him to leave. 

Peck was awaiting the opening of the seance with 
some satisfaction when the old professor came to 
him and asked how long he had been attending art 
schools. Instantly it flashed upon the youth that 
Lysle was to blame for this interference,' and he 
grew pale with anger. His only reply was that he 
kad paid his money for a certain number of iesseot 



106 MouLDiiro A KAisiar. 

and that he proposed to have them. After that, if 
the professor did not wish him to continue, he could 
say so. This confirmed the suspicions that had been 
formed. M. Jouanneau tendered him his money 
and requested him to depart. But this Peck flatly 
refused to do Seeing that there was a disturbance 
brewing, many of the other students gathered 
around them. 

" I have as good a right to stay as any one else 
who has paid his money," said Peck, defiantly. 
" And as for that Mr. Melrose, who has made all this 
trouble, I would thank him to attend to his own 
business !" 

Lysle had purposely kept out of the crowd that 
surrounded the disputants, but when he heard his 
name mentioned he walked over to the others. 

" You are no artist," he said, " and have no right 
here. This is not the place to witness a spectacle. 
I have told M. Jouanneau so, and I think we shall 
all agree upon the matter." 

The students, with one voice, acceded to this pro- 
position. Some further time was spent in useless 
argument with the young man, who would not con- 
sent either to accept his money or to leave the room. 
One or two of the students proposed audibly to put 
him out, but this M. Jouanneau would not permit. 
He was a very gentle man, and was not quite sure 
whether the law was wholly on his side. On one 
thing he was, however, quite determined. The 
stance should not proceed with this outsider there. 

" Young gentlemen," he said, after exhausting all 
his patience, " there will be no lessons to-day. I 
will send you word when they will be resumed." 

Peck saw that he was out-generalled, and he left 
tke place, uttering imprecations and casting tbt 



namx of BonxiOA. lOt 

blackest looks at Lysle. He was thoroughly 

enraged, and determined to have revenge for what 
he considered his unwarrantable interference. 

It happened that he repaired, that same evening, to 
the Restaurant de la Republique. He did not think 
anything about seeing Lysle, as he had often been 
there in former times without meeting him. And, as 
a matter of fact, Lysle was not visiting this restaurant 
on this particular week, for the reason that he did 
not like to meet Suzette. He had his model in his 
mind's eye in a very different pose from the one she 
was in the habit of assuming around that gay board, 
and he did not wish to spoil his illusions. Suzette 
was there, however, and some of the others whom 
Arthur had known in the former time, and he was 
welcomed with a certain politeness, though he had 
never been a favorite. He soon learned that Suzette 
was alone, and as she was the only grisette there of 
whom this was true, he was not long in finding his 
way to her side. When she left the restaurant he 
accompanied her and she told him her story — all 
about Andre's leaving for home, and how she was 
now supporting herself as a model for a painter. 

•' A model — a nude model ?" he asked, surveying 
her with sharpened curiosity. 

When she explained to him as well as she could the 
kind of model she had become, his disappointment 
was plainly evident. 

" 1 want to join some class where they draw from 
the nude," he said. " Do you know of any ?'* 

• I think they have one at the studio of the master 
of M. Melrose," she answered, ** I will ask him, H 
you desire." 

He started in surprise. 

** You know M. Melrose, thco I* 



109 iioinDiEio ▲ WAiffBi^ 

* Perfectly," she responded. **lt is for him fhat 1 

am posing. He says the picture he is at work upon 
will be one of the finest in the next Salon. I do not 
like the work — that posing — it is very dull. But one 
must have bread, and there is no other way just 
now.'* 

An opportunity had come, most unexpectedly, for 
a revenge upon his enemy. Arthur decided then and 
there, to take the protection of this girl upon himself, 
in the hope that thereby he might spoil Lysle's pic- 
ture. She was only too glad to exchange her dull 
days for the gayeties to which he was ready to intro- 
duce her, and when the time came for her next sitting 
she wrote a letter at her new lover's dictation, stating 
that she did not care to pose any more. As Arthur 
expected, the young artist came the next day to 
Suzette's rooms, to demand an explanation ; and it 
gave him the keenest pleasure to be able to meet him 
there and to hear him told that mademoiselle would 
be otherwise engaged and unable on any account to 
mccommodate him. 

Suzette, with the fickleness of her sex, thought it 
only good amusement to assist Arthur in his 
triumph. He talked it all over with her in advance, 
and when Lysle came they were there together to 
receive him. 

" M. Melrose, this is my friend, M. Peck,** was 
Suzette's introduction, as Lysle stood, astounded, on 
the threshold of her apartment. He recovered him- 
self in a moment, and said that he wished a few 
minutes of private conversation. 

"You can say anything before M. Peck," replied 
Suzette, lighting a cigarette and offering Lysle 
mother, which he declined. " It is quite the same 
now. We are one, you understand." 



CN8IDB OF BOHEMIA. 109 

Arthur had walked to a window and was looking 

out on a court-yard, with pretended nonchalance^ 
But one glance convinced Lysle that he was at the 
bottom of the whole affair, and he felt an almost 
irresistible inclination to kick him. 

" You have written to me declining to sit again as 
my model," he said, recovering. " Was it not under- 
stood that you were to come until the picture was 
finished ?" 

" Not at all," she answered, laughing. *' You will 
recollect that I said I would only come till I could 
do better. And that" — she indicated Peck by a 
motion of her head — " I have succeeded in doing/' 

*' But," he said, desperately, " you have beea paki 
for nearly a week in advance." 

She smiled again. 

•*That is true." She turned to Arthur. "WSl 
you have the kindness to give me the fifty francs 
which I owe monsieur ?" 

Peck turned away from the window and took OBt 
his purse. 

** I decline to take the money back," said Lysle, 
warmly. " You have received it for certain work 
and you are obliged to perform it." 

A very broad laugh was on the face of Mr. Arthur 
Peck as Suzette appealed to him to know if this was 
the law. 

" I understand that it is not," he said, grimly. **I 
paid for twelve lessons of an artist myself, the other 
day, and he declined to give them to me, offering 
me back my money. He said it was the only thing 
I could claim." 

The young artist saw easily enough that he was 
jseing ndiculed, and fearing that in the state of his 
tem;«r hs might do something rash, be turned witb* 



110 VOULDINa A MAIDBB. 

out another word and left the place, the sound ol 
loud laughter following him down the stairs. 

He went back to his studio, and surveyed his 
great effort with a saddened look. It would have 
taken only three or four more sittings to make it 
perfect. Could he finish it without his model? 
It was a great risk. The deep regret that he felt at 
his loss counterbalanced his anger at the man who 
was responsible for it. It was evident that he must 
finish the picture without her. He took up his 
brush and tried to go on with the work, but his hand 
was too unsteady. He could not trust himself to do 
it then. 

The next day he tried again, but the risk 
frightened him. The day after it was the same, and 
at last he put the picture regretfully away and 
resumed his ordinary work. A fortnight later he 
came suddenly upon Suzette in the street. He 
Would not have addressed her, but she stopped him. 

" I am sorry for you — I am, really," she said, as if 
she meant it. " I was angry that day but I had for- 
given 5'ou. If I could have come to let you finish 
the picture I would have done so. You see, it is as 
I told you. I am not a model, I am a grisette. My 
lover has a right to command me, and he says I am 
not to go. He does not like you, there has been 
trouble somewhere between you, has there not ? We 
have moved to new rooms in a much better street, 
the Rue Marbeuf. I do not care for that. I really 
liked the old ones better, for I knew every one in the 
neighborhood* He has given me many pretty thingfs, 
but I would rather have Andr6 and a crust. I hope 
you will never have any words with him. He seems 
lo me like a man who would kill, if be was excuad. 



*▲ UTTLB LIKE LTUfO** 111 

Good-by, monsieur. I hope you will not blame m% 
for what I could not help," 

Lysle was too dispirited to answer her, and he 
knew all he could say would count for nothing. It 
was only a little while after these occurrences that 
his twenty-first birthday came, and he set sail for 
America, after nearly six years' absence from his 
native shores. 



CHAPTER IX. 

** A UTTLE LIKE LYING.* 

Stanley Melrose had been very thoughtful ever 
since he learned that his cousin was about to visit 
America. His large business interests, his extensive 
law practice, all the trusts with which he had become 
possessed, seemed to take a secondary place in his 
mind. He could think of nothing but Lysle and 
Rosalie and Miss Steiner, and the problem that 
would soon confront him in relation to them. He 
had Rosalie on his side ; of that he felt no doubt. 
Miss Steiner would certainly turn against him if she 
found an ally strong enough to make it a safe thing 
to do ; of that he felt no doubt, either. In a 
guardianship that comprised three persons it was 
easy to see that two constituted a clear majority. 
If Miss Steiner and Lysle should decide, up and 
down, that they would be the controllers of Rosalie's 
future, it would not be an easy thing to deprive 
them of that right. 

He decided to meet Lysle in the most affable man« 
ner and to fight with all his diplomacy to prevent a 



lis mouLDma a MAiosji. 

complete union of the opposition forces. Kesod 
Lyslc corresponded but little, while Miss Steiner had 
had, he knew, a good many letters from the young 
man. It was to be his task to outwit them both, and 
in the strength of his determination to do this he 
rested. 

One of his first ideas was to go to the wharf and 
meet his cousin when he landed. But Stanley never 
decided upon anything of importance without due 
deliberation, and after thinking it over he concluded 
that such a course would have too transparent a 
reason. Although he and Lysle had never quarreled, 
they had not been, even when at school, intimates. 
He would let Miss Steiner meet him, if she chose, 
and give her all the chance she needed to gain his 
car. He knew that he should be sure to see him 
within a few hours of his arrival, as he dined with 
Miss Steiner and Rosalie, and it would be natural 
for Lysle to be invited to join them. 

Several days before the young man was due in 
port, Stanley assumed a brighter aspect than usual. 

** Lysle's steamer ought to arrive either Monday 
or Tuesday," said he, at table. ** It seems so long 
since he went away ! What a change he will find 
in me — from a schoolboy to a man in business ! 
And he has done well, I am told. I learn from a 
client, who is a dealer in art goods, that his name is 
already familiar to painters here, and that the 
greatest things are expected of him. I suppose he 
has grown so we shall hardly know him. I hope he 
will not hurry back to Europe. There ought to be 
inspiration for an artist in such a country as we 
have here. He will not find finer views anywhere, I 
will wager, than some of those in the interior of this 
eontinent" 



"a little lekb lying." 113 

Miss Steiner wondered what was behina all this, 
for she never thought of taking it at its apparent 
value, but she said nothing to indicate what was in 
her mind. As he had spoken of Lysle as a land« 
scape artist, she ventured the remark that what he 
most excelled in, as she understood it, was in paint- 
ing human faces and figures. 

** Well, let him take a few studies from our Rosa" 
lie," he answered, almost gayly. " He would have 
to search far to find a better specimen of bright and 
happy childhood. What do you say, little one? 
Would you not like to have your picture painted by 
our cousin, when he comes home ?" 

Rosalie did not care anything about pictures, 
either of herself or of other things, but she saw that 
Stanley wanted her to assent, and that was enough 
for her. She answered accordingly, that if Stanley 
wanted Lysle to paint her picture she should be 
very glad to sit for him. 

" And how shall he paint you ? Sitting on the 
rocks at Newport, with one stockingless foot pad- 
dling in the water, or riding one of those ponies in 
the Park ?" 

" Those ponies are very slow beasts," responded 
the child. " I wish I had one of the mustangs that 
you taught me to ride out in the West. I would 
stick some of the eagle feathers in my hair, as I did 
then, and cling without any saddle to the back of 
the animal, and that would make something worth 
paJ-ii-ing." 

He glanced across the table at Miss Steiner, with 8 
Vook that was intended to assume that they were on 
an intimate footing. 

" But you are to be a young lady soon," he said. 
** I think, on the whole, we will ask Lysle to paint 



114 HOULDINO A. IfAIDEN. 

you in your best dress, sitting in an arm-chair, in the 
correct attitude. Then you can keep it to study 
by." 

Rosalie did not reply to this. She half believod 
that he was joking, but she did not like to proceed 
on this supposition when Miss Steiner was present. 
She realized that a change had suddenly taken place 
in his manner, and she did not know exactly how to 
answer him. 

When Lysle came at last. Miss Steiner had more 
than an hour's conversation with him before Stanley 
arrived. She had given him hints in her recent let- 
ters that she might need his help, but when he was 
actually at her side, and she was asked for specifica- 
tions, she hardly knew how to state her case. He 
was given an opportunity to see Rosalie, and his 
admiration for the healthy beauty of the child was 
most pronounced. It seemed a hard thing to ask 
his aid in opposition to a guardian whose *' methods " 
had produced this splendid specimen. 

" I never saw a more perfect child !" he 
€xclaimed, when Rosalie had left the room. 

*' Yes," said Miss Steiner, confusedly, and not 
without a pardonable pride in the enthusiasm of his 
tone. " Physically, she is perfect. But her mina, 
Lysle, that is the point. She has had none of the 
mental training of the ordinary child. She has not 
even been treated as a child at all. Her thoughts 
are in channels much too advanced for her years. I 
fear that when we try to mould her intellect there 
will be a great deal of trouble." 

Lysle listened to her with some surprise. 

** I do not understand why you have neglected 
tkese things," he said. 

•* He — Stanley — had other ideas," she replied. 



*▲ LITTLB LIES LYING." Ili 

He could not comprehend. 

** But you had the entire control of her until two 
years ago — until he reached his majority." 

It distressed her to tell him the truth, it hurt her 
pride, but she knew no other way. 

" No, he has managed everything from the day 
you sailed for France." 

" And he was only seventeen, then ! Why ?'* 

She looked at him appealingly, as if craving sym- 
pathy in her confession. 

"Stanley was older at seventeen than most boys. 
You know that. I did not like to risk a conflict 
with him, and things went on from one to another 
before I realized what was being done." 

Still it all seemed very strange to him. 

" Tell me exactly what you complain of," he 
said. 

When she tried to do this, she succeeded badly. 
It was no special thing, but everything together. 
He had taken all her rights and duties upon him» 
self. Rosalie looked to him for instruction in every 
act of her life. 

" I am hardly as mueh to her as her French 
governess," she said, in conclusion. " Mr. 
Vandenhoff's will gave me equal power over her 
with you and Stanley, and yet I am treated as if I 
was nobody." 

" He shall treat you respectfully. I will see to 
that," said Lysle. 

Her confusion increased. 

" Oh, he does that, of course. I do not know how 
to explain it to you. If you stay here long enough 
you will understand it. I have borne it patiently, 
feeling that it would have to end when you came. 
Watch the child when he is present, and you will 



116 MOULDINa A MAIDEN. 

see how little influence any one else is likely to have 
on her life. It is not for to-day that I am uneasy, it 
is for the years that are coming." 

He could not help feeling that she worried unnec- 
essarily, and he thought the best way for him was to 
quietly take in the situation. When Stanley came, 
at lunch time, having walked all the way up from 
his office, Lysle had to admire the tall, athletic fel- 
low, whose full beard made him look at least five 
years older than he was. Stanley had improved 
with time, that was evident. A gentleman on the 
steamer had happened to ask Lysle whether he was 
any relation to the rising young lawyer and real 
estate operator, and had told him what a prominent 
figure Stanley was making in the metropolis. He 
expected to feel a slight sensation of awe at this 
** prominent citizen," whom, even in boyhood days, 
he had thought one of the wisest persons that he 
knew. The breezy atmosphere that his cousin 
brought in from his walk and the hearty grasp of 
the hand that he gave him, dispelled these reflec- 
tions, however, and they welcomed each other more 
like brothers than relations of a less near tie. 

Miss Steiner noticed the impression that Stanley 
made, and her heart sank. 

" You are taller, and yet not as much so as I antici- 
pated," said Stanley, looking his cousin over. " I 
don't think you are any handsomer, but that was not 
to be expected. There must be limits to that sort of 
thing, where men are concerned. You are older, 
but not quite enough for the years you claim. I am 
afraid, my boy, that you have staid too many hours 
«ach day in your studio, and too few in the open 
air." 

Lysle responded to this that he had never cared 



•*A LITTLE LIKE LYING." H^ 

much for outdoor exercise, and that he could not 
hope to rival his cousin, if he tried it ever so long. 

" Here is a specimen of what nature can do V* 
cried Stanley, taking the little Rosalie by the hand, 
as she entered the room. *' Feel of that for flesh," 
he added, drawing the child forward, and playfully 
pinching her arms to show their hardness. " She is 
as strong as most children of twice her age. We 
will go up in the country and down to the shore, 
by-and-by, and let you see her at her best. There 
isn't a horse that can throw her, and she can find a 
ten cent piece in the bottom of a mill-pond." 

Lunch being served, they all sat down to it, and 
the conversation drifted naturally on things Ameri- 
can and European. There was enough to talk about, 
as may readily be imagined, but Stanley managed 
to get much more information than he imparted. 
He professed himself quite in love with Lysle's 
descriptions of Paris, and said he must certainly go 
there, if his business ever gave him time. 

" Ah, you artists," he exclaimed, " who see noth- 
ing but the beautiful side of life, how you must pity 
us poor business men who have to keep the world 
going. With me it is a steady grind from one end 
of the year to another, and all the recreation I can 
take is a stroll with Rosalie, or a Sunday in the 
country with her and Miss Steiner„ Our walks in 
the city are mostly in the very early morning, and 
it would tire you to keep up with us, I am afraid.** 

Lysle remarked that he could not understand why 
a man of Stanley's property should burden himself 
with such a rush of work so early in life. 

** It would have been more sensible, it seem* to 
■ne," he said, " to have taken a year or two for 
travel, at the start. Now that you have got «II 



116 MOULDING ▲ MAIDSM. 

tangled up in affairs you will never extricate yomr- 
self, if you are not careful." 

** I did not plan it," was the reply, and the speaker 
drew a rather long breath as he did so. '* I found 
myself at twenty-one with my own property sud- 
denly put into my hands, and what was of much 
more importance, all of — all of another person's." 
He silently indicated Rosalie. " I found that both 
these fortunes were invested in much less remunera- 
tive ways than was possible, and in changing the 
investments I made several successful deals that 
attracted the attention of other people, who came to 
me, asking that I do as much for them. Then, when 
I was admitted to the bar, clients came much faster 
than I deserved ; and take it altogether, I am a 
rather busier man than I ought to be. But I shall 
take my vacation yet, and when I do you will see me 
on your side of the ocean." 

Both his auditors noticed that he had uncon- 
sciously taken it for granted that Lysle intended to 
return to France. 

** I suppose," said Lysle, wisely, " that I shall have 
to examine those accounts of yours that I am inter« 
ested in, and see that they are satisfactory. It will 
be a perfunctory thing, of course, but it is my legal 
duty." 

** I shall be only too glad to render an account to 
you," was the reply, " and the sooner yon come the 
better. This afternoon, if you wish." 

Lysle laughed. 

" Not quite so soon as that," said he. ** I have my 
private affairs to attend to first, with Mr. Dennin. 
But I shall call on you," he Added, with another 
laMgh, *' I shall be strict in my investigations, too. 
1/ you have anything wrong to be discovered, you 



"a littlb like lying.* 110 

will have just about time enough to get OTer the line 
into Canada," 

This seemed sufficiently amusing to brighten up 
everybody, and the subject wandered for a time into 
other channels. 

" How much do you think Mr. Dennin has ready 
for you ?" asked Stanley, after a pause. 

" Something like sixty-five thousand dollars, he 
says," replied Lysle. " It is all in paper, and I could 
carry it away in a small; bag. You had much more, 
I believe. Your father had more of the business 
instinct in him than mine, as you have more than I. 
It is certain that I shall never increase my pile, while 
yours will reach, there is no knowing what dimen- 
sions." 

Stanley bowed silently. He made no secret of his 
intention to become a very rich man. 

" You could get a good deal of money for your 
pictures, though," he said, presently. " I have been 
told that you are doing most remarkable work." 

** Have you ?" said Lysle. It pleased him 
immensely to think that his reputation had already 
crossed the Atlantic. " But I am doing as I once 
told you I should. I am keeping everything I 
paint." 

" That is a good idea, too," said Stanley, shrewdly, 
" for by-and-by, when you are the most famous 
painter in the world, you can name your own prices. 
And another advantage will be gained," he contin- 
ued. " Your earlier work, that must necessarily 
exhibit some crudeness, will not be in the market to 
your injury." 

Lysle hastened to say that he tiad no avaricious 
intentions in the matter at ail. He only felt that he 
liid not wish to paint for money, and that the highest 



130 KOFLDING A MAIDENo 

incentive In art should not be the amount of gold 
that a piece of canvas would bring. 

** You will make the money of the family, Stanley,** 
said he, " and I shall make the fame. Is it not a faif 
division ?'* 

" But there is fame to be gained at the bar, also,*' 
replied the other, slightly piqued. 

" Oh, yes," said Lysle ; but he did not speak as if 
he thoroughly appreciated the fact. 

Neither of the cousins seemed to realize that Miss 
Steiner had no part in this conversation, except the 
one of listener. 

It was Rosalie's habit to say nothing unless 
addressed, when others were present, and she grew 
quite jealous of Lysle, before the long meal was 
over. After lunch Lysle went to Mr. Dennin's office, 
and passed the rest of the afternoon there, while 
Stanley went to his own place of business. The 
child walked out with her French governess, but she 
found the day very dreary. Something had come 
between her and her natural companion, and she did 
not like the change. 

At dinner they were all together again, though 
Lysle had taken up his residence at an [adjacent 
hotel, and when it was ended Stanley was struck for 
the first time with the sad look on the child's coun- 
tenance. Divining its cause, he told her he had no 
intention of missing their usual evening walk, and 
she joyfully went for her hat. Lysle and Miss Steiner 
were asked to excuse them, and neither made any 
objection to doing so. Stanley wanted to show the 
woman that he had no fear of leaving her and Lysle 
alone. She was more depressed than ever, when 
he and Rosalie had sauntered forth, and got along 
▼cry slowly in her endeavors to make Lysle under- 



*▲ UTTIiB UKB LYOrO.^ ISl 

Stand the points of difference between her and tbtir 
cousin. 

Although it was rather later than Stanley and 
Rosalie were in the habit of starting, both of them 
were so glad to be alone together that the hour had 
no significance. When they arrived at Madison 
square they turned in to Madison avenue and walked 
all the way to Forty-second street before he proposed 
that they set upon their return. They had talked of 
nothing in particular until this moment, but as they 
turned to retrace their steps, Rosalie suddenly 
astonished him by a strange inquiry : 

*' Is it right to tell lies, Stanley— ever ?'* 

It was his way • to draw out her full meaning 
before he answered her^ and he tried to do it in this 
irase. 

*' Give me an example," he said. 

*' You do not like Lysle, and yet you pretend to 
him that you do. Is not that a sort of lying ? And 
is it right ?" 

As mature as he had found the young mind grow- 
ing under his manipulations, he was surprised at the 
keenness of her perception. 

"I never told you I did not like Lysle," he 
answered, evasively. 

** Oh, no, you did not need to tell me." 

'* There is something that we call courtesy,** he 
continued, slowly, *' which makes us treat well even 
people for whom we have no particular affection, 
especially if they are our relations.'* 

She looked thoughtful. 

*' Relations are cousins, brothers, and |»eopk Wui 
that ?" 



us MOULDING A MAIDEX. 

"What relations have I, Stanley? Not raany^l 
think." 

" No. You have no father or mother, brother of 
sister ; not even an uncle or aunt. The only rela- 
tions that you have who are near enough even to be 
called cousins are Miss Steiner, Lysle and I.** 

She was revolving the question in her mind. 

** Then I ought to love all of you very much, ought 
I not ?" 

"We are more than your relations, in this case," 
he said, with an effort. " We are also your guardians, 
and you are bound to respect us as you would your 
parents, if they were still living." 

She had heard something like this before, but not 
having seen Lysle till so recently, the idea had not 
thoroughly taken possession of her mind. 

** You three are my guardians — one just as much 
as the other ?" 

He gulped down something that stuck in his 
throat at the unpleasant fact that she thus baldly 
stated. 

"One just as much as the other,** he admitted. 

They walked several blocks before she spoke 
Again, and he did not think it wise to disturb hef 
train of thought. 

** Supposing, sometime, Stanley,** she said, looking 
up at last, " that one of you should want me to do 
one thing and another should want me to do aome- 
thing different ?" 

" That is hardly likely to happen," he answered. 

**Yes, it is," she replied. **It will happen some- 
time, I am sure ; and I want to know beforehand 
what I am to do." 

They were such companions, used to these con* 
ftdences for the past four years or more, and yet 



''a uttls ueb LTnra." 193 

•he had never said anything that affected him as 
much as this. 

" What would you like to do, in a case like that IT 
he asked. 

"I should like to obey^^a." 

His pleasure at this naive confession was so great 
that he stooped down and put his arm around the 
child, a thing he was not in the habit of doing. 
She realized as much as he that this action was 
caused by sudden and violent emotion, and it 
affected her intensel5^ 

" We must see to it," he said, presently, " that no 
question comes up on which your guardians need to 
differ. We all desire only what is best for you, I am 
sure. If you feel any difference between us, you 
must be careful and not show it. That will be one 
way to prevent trouble." 

" But it will be a kind of lying, won't it, Stanley?" 
she asked, reverting to the former inquiry. 

" Hardly," he said. " It is your duty to treat us 
all with respect, and you need not consider it false- 
hood if you only do that. Miss Steiner and I have 
had no trouble in agreeing about you, and Lysle 
ought not to want anything that is unreasonable.*' 

She clasped tightly the hand that she had taken a 
few minutes before. 

" But he will, Stanley. I am sure of it. He will 
propose things that you will not like. And I want 
very much to know what we are to do when that 
time comes." 

For several minutes he was silent. Then he said : 

" If he proposed anything that I thought very much 
against your interests — so much that I could not 
possibly agree with him, and if Miss Steiner was on 
his side, I should have to go to the judges and get 



them to settle it If it was an ordinary thing; Z 
should try and let him have his way. But, pshaw! 

Nothing like that will happen. You must be at 
friendly with hira as you are with me, so that ht 
will have no cause for complaint on that score. If 
he wants you to walk with him, or give up any part 
of your time to him, you must do it as if you were 
quite willing. I shall depend on you, Rosalie, to 
help me a great deal in that way. And, really, he is 
a pleasant fellow, you know, and can be of use to you, 
beside, in your French. He has lived in Paris until 
he talks like a native." 

She look up at him again, for he had taught her 
always to be most punctilious in all matters of con- 
science. 

** There wtff be a difference, only I must not let 
him Jknottf it. Is that what you mean, Stanley f* 

•* That is it, exactly." 

** It ts a little like lying, isn't it ?" 

He did not say anything to this, for it seemed to 
him that the child was right in her estimate of the 
transaction to which he had advised her. But look 
which way he might, he could not see any other way 
out of the dilemma that confronted them. 



CHAPTER X. 

•• 1 NEVER Kiss GENTLEMEN !* 

When the height of the summer season came, Mi«s 
Steiner and Lysle, with Rosalie, of course, went to 
Cape May. Stanley knew that they would have to 
go somewhere, and when the place was to be decided 



•*I NBVEB KISS GENTLEMEN f 136 

Upon he selected Cape May as the best of those named 
on account of its accessibility from the city, whenever 
he should find himself able to run down there. His 
business had now grown to such proportions that he 
did not like to neglect it, and yet he wanted to see 
his ward quite often. Cape May was a good place. 
There was excellent bathing there, and the resort 
was considered very healthy. 

Rosalie astonished Lysle, the first time he went in 
bathing with her, at the capacity she showed as a 
swimmer. She was still but eight years of age, and 
he supposed that he would have to take the same 
care of her as is usually given to young children 
when in the water. Probably he had a dim idea that 
she would scream when the waves touched her limbs, 
and have to be encouraged to go out as far as it 
would be necessary for the water to reach her chin, 
while he held to her clothing and repeated assurances 
that he would protect her. But the lithe figure 
darted from him at the water's edge, and with a joy- 
ous rush the child threw herself into the brine, going 
under like an expert, and reappearing again some 
seconds later fifteen feet further away. Lysle had a 
momentary fright as he saw her disappear, and made 
his way as rapidly as possible toward the place where 
she had gone down. When he saw her come up 
•gain he swam toward her in the belief that she was 
being swept out to sea by some kind of undertow. 
At which Rosalie, who saw him coming, dared him 
to a race, and took such bold strokes away from 
the land that he was greatly alarmed, and called 
to her to return at once, 

" Have you a cramp, or anything ?" she asked^ 
anxiously, as she swam to where he was, evidently 
under the impression that he required assistance. 



1S6 MOULDma A MAIDSK. 

As she spoke she poised herself in the water m 
comfortably as a duck, seemingiy without the slight- 
est effort. 

" I am all right," he answered, slightly out of 
breath, for his anxiety had contributed to wind 
him. " I was afraid you were in danger. I do not 
think it is wise for you to go out beyond your 
depth." 

" Why not ?" she asked, astonished at the idea. 
" I could swim an hour without being tired. Stan- 
ley used to take me out half a mile. It is not much 
fun swimming in the dirty water along the shore. I 
wish you would go with me. I think I could race 
you back and make you rather tired." 

He was tired already, not being anything of an 
expert in the art of natation, and slowly paddled 
nearer the land, where he could find a resting place 
for his feet. Rosalie followed him, not seeming to 
like it, however. 

" I did not know you were such a swimmer," he 
said, when she joined him. " I have onl}'^ had a 
little experience in the swimming schools of the 
Seine, and at Ostend and Boulogne." 

Miss Steiner, who was waiting among the specta- 
tors on the shore, came to speak to them, 

" He does not like to have me go out," said the 
child, rather sorrowfully, to her. " You know how 
well I can swim. I am as safe in the water as any- 
where. Do you not think so?" 

" Perhaps," said Miss Steiner. " But it is different 
when Stanley is not here. If anything should 
happen to you when you were out there alone, what 
could we do ? I do not wish you to take any risks." 

*' Very well," said Rosalie. She had been taught 
to obey without serious argument. 



'^I NXYEB KIS8 OXNTLBMXnP' Iff 

A crowd had gathered on the border of the beach, 

•omposed both of bathers and of the ordinary non- 
bathing spectators. Rosalie had passed a week or 
two there in the previous season, and some of them 
remembered her feats and related them to the others. 
Sensations were very scarce, and there was general 
disappointment when the child left the water and 
went with Miss Steiner to her bath-house. Lysle 
fancied that there was a species of contempt in the 
glances that pursued him as he followed, and it did 
not add to his ease. 

" Confound them !" he thought, with anger. " I 
can paint a picture that will be hung in a place of 
honor in the Paris Salon, but to these fools I 
am nobody because I am not a great swimmer ! 
Stanley, who could not draw the picture of a tree, 
will come here and excite their admiration, because 
he has learned to propel himself through the waves 
like a dolphin ! What different standards of intelli- 
gence people have !" 

Rosalie had never had the least idea of compatring 
Lysle with Stanley, but he had certainly fallen more 
than ever in her mind on account of this event. She 
had been disappointed in her swim, for one thing ; 
she had missed the chance of exercising her feminine 
privilege of conquest by showing the guests at Cape 
May what a fine natator she was. But, more than 
this, she had to blush at the poor talents of her pro- 
tector. Her only comfort was in the knowledge 
that Stanley would come in a few days. 

Lysle got her all to himself that afternoon for an 
hour, and had a long talk with her. He drew out 
all her life on the frontier and saw the kindling of 
the eye with which she narrated her rides on horse- 
back with the Indian and half-breed children, her 



i28 MOULDING A MAIDEN. 

catching of fish in the little brooks, her sitting about 
the fires in the evening, when the howling of wolves 
could be heard plainly in the distance. It was in a 
lake there that Stanley had taught her to swim, and 
before the season was over she used to dive with 
the young aborigines for pieces of money thrown 
into the clear water. She was not apt to show 
great enthusiasm, having been taught to repress her 
sentiments, but the awakened recollections were too 
strong. 

" You like the frontier better than New York, I 
judge," he said,'after listening to her. 

" Oh, yes," she said quickly. " I should have 
been willing to stay there all my life, if Stanley had 
wished it." 

It struck him powerfully that she would have gone 
to the Frozen Sea, or to Terra del Fuego, " if Stan- 
ley had wished it." 

"You would not have had the opportunity to 
learn things there that you have in the East," he 
suggested. 

" Not the same things," she admitted. " But Stan- 
ley tells me that all the things worth knowing are 
not in books. I shall soon be nine years old, and I 
do not yet know how to read." 

He was much disappointed at this, and said so 
without reserve. 

"You must learn at once," said he. " I do not see 
what Miss Steiner is thinking of to make you wait 
so long." 

She felt it an imputation upon her acquirements. 

** I can speak three languages, and that is some- 
thing. And I can make myself understood in the 
Sioux tongue. And I am very strong, and — " she 



"I XXVSB KIM BmnLtMMB f tW 

IwtiUted, doabtful whether it would be tooimpoUie 

to say it — " and I can swim and ride.** 

He winced a little at the thrust 

** But reading is so accessary," he said. "Newly 
nine years old ! Why at nine I had read half of the 
great English authors and many of the poets. I 
shall certainly speak to Miss Steiner." 

She noticed that he persisted in speaking of Miss 
Steiner as if that lady was the natural arbiter of her 
destiny, and it made the child more determined thao 
ever to direct all her allusions to Stanley. 

**l wish you would speak to me always in 
French," she said. ** Stanley said you would l>e ot 
great advantage to me in my accent.'* 

He was well pleased at this, and promised to try 
to remember it. And, as a beginning, he turned the 
conversation at once into that language. 

** You must learn to read," he repeated. ** If you 
wait much longer you will be behiai the other 
young ladies when you grow up/* 

** I think I learn things rapidly," she responded. 
" You shall see how fast I will acquire reading. If 
it pleases you, I should like to learn to read in 
French first. I think English will come easier after 
that." 

She had never deceived any one before in her life, 
and had had no cause to. How did the art come so 
easily with what she regarded as the necessity for 
it? Il was the immediate outgrowth of Stanley's 
attitude toward his cousin, which she realized so 
quickly was not a thoroughly truthful one. Rosalie 
knew that Stanley wanted her to learn to read 
French before she did English. She knew, also, that 
Lysle would not be prejudiced in favor of the plaa 
If she told him it was of his cousin's origiaatiOQi 



MO MODLDIBO X ICAIOBS. 

So she said, ** / think,** and he accepted the idea at 
once, as a compliment to himself. 

** I will talk to Miss Steiner," he said, again, * and 
if she is willing, you may begin at once. Your 
governess has nothing else to do here, and you 
would be willing, I suppose, to devote two or three 
hours each day to it, even this summer?" 

She entered on her new study with delight. She 
knew that Stanley would be pleased at her finesse, 
when she told him of it, and the result confirmed 
her opinion. He said nothing, but his manner 
showed that he was gratified. He came, as she had 
expected he would, on the first Saturday night after 
her arrival, and remained over till Monday morn* 
ing. 

Rosalie had always been taught to repress all 
manifestations of great joy or sorrow, and Lysle 
could not justly estimate the pleasure that she felt 
to see Stanley again by its mere outward expression. 
After dinner she and her eldest guardian went oflf 
for a walk alone on the beach, where for an hour 
they exchanged confidences. 

Something had been troubling Miss Steiner for # 
long time, and she thought this a good oppor*uoiJ| 
to broach it to Lysle. 

"Rosalie has had hardly any religious training,** 
she said, as they sat together in a corner ot one of 
the piazzas. 

" Ah !" was his only comment. 

** A child — a — a girl," she continued, " needs relig* 
lous instruction. Don't you think so ?" 

To tell the truth, he had never thought much 
about it. For himself, he had never entered a place 
of worship except as a sight-seer since he left Brooks 
Academy, where he toand it a regulation part of tba 



•*! NBTEB KISS flUarTLBMEIf.* M 

course he was pursuing. He had no definite rtWg* 
ious opinions. He called himself a Protestant as so 
many others do, merely to signify that he was not a 
Roman Catholic. Lysle was not an atheist, but he 
went no further than that. Still he did have an idea 
that a certain amount of religion was a good thing 
for women, and he assented mildly to Miss Steiner's 
proposition. 

** Stanley has managed everything so entirely his 
own way," she went on, gratified at his concurrence, 
**that I have not made the stand I ought in reference 
to this matter. But Rosalie is growing older, and it 
is time something was done. Now, to-morrow 
morning, the first thing he will want will be to take 
her into the water. I don't think that is a good 
idea." 

Lysie looked at her rather blankly. He could not 
quite understand the connection between religion 
and bathing. A notion that she had some thought 
of the significance of baptism entered his head, but 
was immediately dismissed, 

** I do not quite understand," he said. 

** I know," she replied, with a disappointed expres- 
sion, " that you have lived in Paris, where such 
things are looked upon differently than they arc 
here. Rosalie is, however, an American girl, and 
must be treated as such. And I cannot help think* 
Sag that it sets a bad example." 

He was as much in the dark as ever. 

'* Is bathing so wrong, then ?" he asked, trying to 
reconcile her attitude with that she had taken on 
the day when he had gone into the water with the 
child, having her apparent assent. 

" It is not considered, I think, by refined pe(^>Is 
liere, the best way to spend the Sabbath.** 



1S9 uomjymct ▲ uatoss. 

•The Sabbath !*' He could dimly remember haT« 
In,^ heard that title applied to Sunday, by some 
Clergyman of his boyhood. So that was the trouble. 

** I cannot see what harm an hour in the water 
would do, ' he answered, thoughtfully. "Your 
places of amusement are all closed, I believe. You 
have no theatres, or gardens — or circuses — open on 
that day ?" 

Miss Steiner looked properly shocked. 

"Well, I should hope not!" she said. "Those 
customs of Continental Europe have not yet gained 
a foothold in the Eastern part of America." 

** What are people permitted to do ?" 

** They go to church, for one thing," was the reply. 
** Then walking, driving — and — and reading are per- 
missible." 

He had become so gallicized that he was genu< 
inely puzzled at her distinctions. 

*' Is bathing more wicked than driving ?" he asked. 
« And if so, why ?'* 

"It is certainly more like — like play," she an- 
swered lamely^ 

" Oh, there is a rule against playing, is there ? * he 
taid, smiling. " You must excuse me, cousin. I 
have been so long away that I really had forgotten 
some of the ways of my native country. If nobody 
bathes on Sunday, perhaps Stanley will not care to 
be the only exception." 

She found it so much more difficult to make her 
views plain to him than she had expected, that she 
grew quite discouraged every time she tried it. 

" A good many do bathe," she admitted, " but not 
the — the best people. Respect for customs is 
almost a necessity if one would move in the upper 
circles. A thing which might be harmless in itseUf 



**! VSVSB KIM OXNTLEMSir.** Itt 

beeomet a crime when it runs counter to the opia* 
jons of those who rule society." 

He laughed inwardly at this, for he hated society 
with a cordial hatred. He had seen some of it in 
France, and found it a dreadful bore. He loved 
Bohemia better, but perhaps there might be some- 
thing different for a young American heiress. 
Besides this, when he came to think it over, he was 
not anxious that Stanley should have too early an 
opportunity to show the people of Cape May how 
much better swimmer he was than his cousin. He 
recollected uneasily the exhibition he had made of 
his own weakness that other morning, when the 
child shamed him before a thousand of them. It 
was not a creditable thing to influence his mind, 
but we are all human, and the remembrance had its 
effect as a make-weight. 

** If, when the morning comes, Stanley proposes to 
take her," he said, ** you can advance your objection 
«nd I will give you my moral support. Only, it 
must not be elevated into anything like a test case. 
If he insists on taking her in, having done so 
often before, I shall not cast my vote positively 
against him. You can tell him what you have 
told me, and we will hear what he has to say." 

This was far from contenting the woman, but it 
was evidently the best she could do. It would 
not answer to attempt to coerce Lysle, She was 
obliged to take exactly as much as he would give 
her, and it would be folly to try to press him beyond 
his judgment. She began to wonder whether she 
had not merely exchanged one autocrat for two. 
This was not what she had dreamed of for six 
yean. 



IM MouLDura i. jludmm, 

Stanley and Rosalie returned shortly, and found 
them still on the piazza. 

"It will be splendid bathing in the morning, I 
think/' were Stanley's first words. ** The wind has 
freshened and the surf will be tremendous. We 
will go away out, Rosalie, into the white-caps.*' 

Miss Steiner glanced involuntarily at Lysle, wha 
smilingly signalled her to proceed. She found it 
koLrder than she had anticipated, however. 

" I think the best people here do not bathe Sunday 
'tow,** she ventured. 

Stanley was a man who thought quickly. He 
fcad no doubt that these words of hers were part of 
A pre-arranged plan, and he wondered how firm the 
Alliance was between his cousins. 

•* The fewer there are in, the better I shall like it,** 
*hc replied. " I would not miss that surf to-morrow, 
U it is what it seems likely to be, for a Supreme 
Court decision. You know, Lysle," he added, turn- 
ing to that young man, " that I have not been in the 
Ivater yet this season. I think there is no other 
tmusement of which I am so passionately fond. 
There will be plenty of bathers, unless the style has 
'iBUch changed within a year. If the best people 
■H>se the fun, so much the worse for them." 

At this he abruptly turned the conversation into 
•toother channel, as though he considered that one 
exhausted. He began to tell Lysle of a real estate 
lieal in which he had just embarked, which was 
norally certain to pay large profits, and offered to 
admit him to a share. He said, with a smile, that he 
knew well how little he cared for money, but after 
all he must invest what he had inherited in some- 
^ing, and why not in a place where it would double 
ia five years as well as in another where it would 



"l HXTXB KISS GENTLBMEir.* ISi 

take fifteen to accomplish that result ? They talked 

the matter over for a long time, leaving Miss Steiner 
stranded high and dry, metaphorically, on the shore ; 
and feeling piqued, she withdrew at last and left 
them there with Rosalie. 

It was nearly ten o'clock when Stanley noticed 
that the child was standing at his elbow, evidently 
waiting to speak to him. 

" It is time I was abed," she said, as he turned to 
her, 

** Why, yes, it ts late for you," he answered, con- 
sulting his watch. " You should have gone before.'* 

" I did not like to interrupt you," she replied, 
•'and neither did I like to go without saying good* 
night." 

He took the hand that she held out to him. 

" Good-night, Rosalie," he said. " Sleep well, and 
in the morning I will call for you very early." 

She took Lysle's hand in the same way. He had 
an idea that this leave-taking was too formal for such 
a child and he thoughtlessiy asked her if she would 
not also give him a kiss. 

She drew sharply away from him at the proposi* 
tion. 

" I never kiss gentlemen !'* she said, coldly. 

" But I am your cousin — your guardian,*' he 
answered, half jocosely. Then he added, smilingly : 
*• You surely have kissed Stanley." 

The little figure shrank together, as if it had 
received a blow. 

" Never ! Never, in my life V* she exclaimed. 

There was something about her manner that made 
Lysle very uncomfortable. A feeling possessed him 
•I if he had unintentionally insulted a woman — ^a 



]t6 uomamk a MAiDnr. 

grown nonuui— which nothing in the world would 
have made him do wittingly. 

** I do not thinlc kissing is healthy for children," 
Stanley explained. **It is not only that I have 
refrained myself, but I have instructed the maids 
and governesses she has had to follow the same 
practice. I think many parents go to absurd lengths 
in that sort of thing. She has treated you as well as 
she does the rest of us, Lysle," he added, lightly. 

** Good-night, Stanley," said the child again. Her 
voice had grown suddenly harsh. 

** Good-night," he answered, cheerily. Then he 
Started up. '* If you will excuse me a minute, Lysle, 
I will go as far as her room with her. We are not 
at home, you know, and I shall feel safer." 

As he crossed the large hall and began to ascend 
the stairs, Rosalie put her hand in his, and looked 
up into his face with such a strange look that he 
stopped short. No one was near them. She seemed 
about to burst into tears, but with her extraordinary 
self-restraint she kept them back. 

"Well, my child ?" he whispered. 

** He had no right to ask me to kiss him !" she 
exclaimed, while her frame shook with the suppressed 
emotion. 

** Hush !" he responded, gently. " He meant 
nothing by it. It is the custom in France, and in 
many places in America, to kiss a child when she 
retires." 

** It is a bad custom !** she cried. ** I would not 
have permitted him. No, Stanley, I would not !" 

He smiled down at her, glad beyond expression. 
fou will see, when you think of it, that these 
VMtis do not sound prettily," said he, gently. 



A DEMOBALIZINa FSACnOK. lH 

** However, we will say no more about it. Oood- 
night." 

He left her at her door and went back to bis 
cousin, ill at ease in spite of himself. Their conver 
sation languished after that and soon they separated 
for the night. 

The first sound that Lysle heard in the morning 
was the voice of Rosalie talking with animation 
about the swim she had had with Stanley in the 
breakers. They had gone out for their bath at five 
Vdock. 



CHAPTER XL 

A DEMORALIZING PRACTICI. 

Lysle Melrose had little conception of the extent 
to which he had injured the feelings of his ward. 
He knew that his proposition to kiss her had aroused 
her indignation, but he considered it nothing more 
than the fancy of a child who had been brought up 
in a very peculiar way. It gave him a momentary 
uneasiness, but he did not remember it long. The 
sound of Rosalie's voice, the next morning, after her 
return from her plunge in the breakers with Stanley, 
was joyous enough to convince him that there was 
nothing weighing very heavily on her heart. But 
she had received an impression that was not to be 
easily effaced. She had not been fond of Lysle 
before, and now she had a distinct aversion to him. 

Stanley had told her, however, to do everything as 
his cousin directed, so far as was possible, and her 
life was in consequence soon filled with those ** little 



188 MOULDKBO A XAIXMDL 

falsehoods'* which she had only lately come to know. 
She made great progress in her reading, and Lysle 
took an hour or more each day to supplement the 
labors of the French governess in teaching that 
written language to mademoiselle. He talked to hcf 
invariably in French, and as there was no one else 
among his friends who used that tongue, it gave him 
much pleasure to return to it. English had come to 
seem, after six years in Paris, almost like a foreign 
speech. 

As Stanley's time was so taken up with his city 
business, Lysle found the child a great deal with 
him. Stanley acceded gracefully to Lysle's propo- 
sition that the party make frequent changes in their 
stopping-places, so that he could try his hand on 
American inland pictures. Miss Steiner, Rosalie, 
and Lysle therefore wandered over a good deal of 
country during the warm season, and sometimes 
Stanley did not see them for a fortnight at a time. 

Beside a few landscape scenes that he sketched, 
Lysle often drew the rustic people at their labors, 
and obtained in this way some very valuable ideas. 
He also made numerous drawings of his ward, who 
furnished the most beautiful natural poses, which he 
was glad to catch. Stanley was pleased with these 
sketches, and begged his cousin to finish one of them 
for him, that he might hang it in his library ; but 
Lysle said he had made a rule that he could not 
▼ary from, even to oblige him, never to part with the 
smallest piece of his work. 

" I shall paint much better some day," he 
explained, " and then I should be sorry to think that 
this amateurish stuff was floating around where it 
could be credited to me." 

**I do not call it amateurish," responded Stanley, 



kindly, though he was disappointed. "And as I 
should never have let it go out of my possession, 
your fame would not have been injured. But I do 
not wish you to chaage your plan, of course, for I 
think there is wisdom in it." 

" Don't consider me ungenerous," continued Lysle, 
half disposed to relent. "I would give it to you 
more quickly than to any one else. Rosalie is a 
beautiful study. I shall try to get one of my 
pictures of her hung in the Salon next year." 

Stanley wished he wouldn't, but he did not know 
how to give a reason for it, and had to hold his 
peace. 

" I had a splendid study last winter, that would 
have given me a medal, at least. When it was just 
at the critical point, my model left me. It was most 
aggravating. You remember Arthur Peck, of course, 
who was at school with us at Brooks. It was his 
doing." 

And then Lysle told him all about the trouble he 
had had with Arthur, and the result. Stanley grew 
much interested in the story. 

" I have heard that you artists also draw from 
nude models," he said, when his cousin finished. 
" It seems to me that it must be a very demoraliz- 
ing practice." 

" In what way ?'* 

" Why, to the women, in the first place. And to 
the students, afterwards." 

The young artist smiled. 

" It is so strange to me to hear such a thought," he 
said, " that I have to laugh a little. How could we 
make a copy of the human form if we had no 
models to draw by ?" 

*' You could draw from other pictures/* replied 



140 UBSUMlim ▲ ILLIMX, 

Stanley. ** There is no need of each new i^Mf •! 

students having a living model." 

Lysle laughed again. 

**We should make poor work of it," said he. 
** There would be no new conceptions if we all had 
to follow an old one, having, perhaps, errors of its 
own." 

"But I have heard," persisted Stanley, " that the 
old masters, as you call them, did better work than 
any of the artists of this day. Why could you not 
copy their nudes instead of originating from life ? 
It must be demoralizing. There is no escape from 
that. Your models are not the best class of women, 
of course." 

Lysle looked thoughtful. 

•* Not always, I am afraid,** he replied, ** though I 
am sure some of them are good enough. This 
Suzette I told you of was only an accidental model. 
She is a grisette, and glories in it." 

Then he had to tell Stanley a great deal about the 
grisettes, and the lives they lead among their student 
friends. 

"Nearly every student has his mistress, I sup- 
pose?" said Stanley, interrogatively, 

*' Very many of them, at least.** 

** Art students, and all ?" 

**Oh, it is just the same.** 

Stanley shook his head, as if the thoughts that 
this state of affairs suggested were two deep for 
words, and Lysle was glad of an opportunity to 
change his subject. 

** Have you met any of the boys who used to be at 
Brooks ?" he asked. 

"Yes. Woodstock has an office here in town 
somewhere, and appears to be prospering. I have 



A matORALOlSQ PBAOnOB. Hi 

heard that the old gentleman Peck has made a lot 
of money at last in electricity. The young fellow tfl 
a bad one, I guess." 

** And Morgan, have you heard of him ?" 

« No." 

" I have,** said Lysle. ** He has written to me 
several times. He is doing something in Buffalo. I 
have promised to go and see him before I leave the 
country." 

If there was one thing more than another that 
Stanley wanted to know it was the date on which 
Lysle intended to " leave the country.*' It was the 
hardest question in the world to ask, however. 

** You were always helping Morgan out of scrapes,* 
he said. "I'll wager that he has asked you for 
money since he left school." 

" Poor Dudley !" replied Lysle, suiting the expres 
sion of his face to the words. ** He is such a good- 
hearted fellow, and life seems to be always so hard 
on him ! I wish I could aid him to some good 
position. He has natural capabilities, but he never 
has been given a chance." 

For a minute Stanley said nothing. He was 
revolving something in his mind. 

" Do you think Morgan would like to be aa 
attorney's clerk ?" he asked, finally. 

" He would be delighted !'* exclaimed the other. 

" And perhaps a lawyer, after awhile ?** 

"Ah, but who would try him .'" 

"I will," said Stanley, "if it will please you very 
much. He shall have a position in my office.*' 

Lysle's breath was taken away for the moment. 
A kindness to his friend affected him much mort 
than on6 to himself. 



lis MOULDINO A MAIDBK. 

** Stanley, you are too good !" he said, witk 

fervor. 

Within a week the position had been ofifered to 
Morgan, and accepted. The poor fellow was trying 
to content himself in a dry-goods store at Buffalo, 
and thought a place in the office of a New York 
lawyer a wonderful stroke of luck. He was delighted 
to see Lysle again, and in response to the good 
advice which he gave him he returned the most abso- 
lute promises of faithfulness to his employer. 

** I'll do everything he tells me," said Morgan. ** I 
am determined to rise in the world, and I don't 
know a man in my list of acquaintances who is 
better able to point out the way than your cousin. 
How long do you stay here, Lysle ?'* 

" Oh, I am going back to France in a month or 
so. But now I have learned the way, I shall come 
here oftener." 

After this the tourists settled at Saratoga, where 
Miss Steiner thought the waters were of benefit to 
her. They did not stay at any of the large hotels, 
but at a private house in the residence quarter, which 
suited them all much better. Lysle worked hard on 
his pictures of Rosalie, and Miss Steiner got very 
little chance to talk to him on the subject nearest 
her heart. All of his spare time was devoted to the 
child, with whom he took long walks and rides, 
flattering himself that he was pleasing her in this 
way as well as Stanley would have done. Her dig- 
nity and demureness seldom left her, and he gradu- 
ally fell into her serious way of conversation. She 
interested him immensely, and he wished he could 
think of some reasonable plan by which she could be 
taken to Paris or its environs, where he could see 
licr often. A mere suggestion of this idea, however, 



A XMOfORixaairG PKAJCfmm. li& 

to Miss Steiaer, showed him that in this case, at 
least, he would find both she and Stanley arrayed 
against him. 

" Paris is a beautiful city," she admitted, " but it 
is also very wicked. Ah, how wicked it is ! I can 
think of no place so bad to take a young girl to." 

He felt a sense of personal injury at this assault 
on his beloved home, and replied that he did not 
know that Paris was any worse than other places, 
New York for instance. 

" The French are not as hypocritical as the English 
and Americans," he told her, " but they may be as 
good, for all that. In this country everything is hid- 
den ; there it is allowed to see the light of day. A 
young person is guarded very carefully in France." 

" Oh, I know all about it," she answered. " I 
have lived ':here.** 

He did not pursue the subject any farther. He 
was by no means sure that it would be wise to take 
Rosalie at that time across the sea, and he had con- 
sulted nothing but his desires in advancing the propo- 
sition. 

A conversation that Miss Steiner had had with 
Stanley, the last time he came to Saratoga, still rang 
in that lady's mind, and would have added to her dis- 
trust of Paris had she not already been sufficiently 
prejudiced. He had told her of Arthur Peck's con- 
temptible conduct in relation to the painting, mak- 
ing it a text for a general disquisition on the 
immorality of student life in the gay capital. 

** I hope our dear Lysle has escaped the contagion 
that is around him," he said, with a serious mien. 
** He seems so good that I cannot imagine him any- 
thing else, but it must be a place full of sore tempta- 
tion to the young who have not fixed principles. 



lift MOOLUNO A MAmn; 

However, as his heart is so set on that partlealar 
piece of work, I trust he will find the girl again. He 
says it is much the best thing he has attempted.** 

Miss Steiner, who never thought of the word 
** model ** in any connection except with nudity, 
shook her head sadly. She had had great faith in 
Lysle's coming unscathed out of the fire of Parisian 
life, but from that time she was glad he was so soon 
going away from Rosalie. It would be better to 
risk the child to the tender mercies of Stanley's 
" methods '* than to one who might be a profligate 
and a rou6. Lysle noticed the difference in the 
way that she treated him, and wondered what he 
had done to deserve it. 

He had a little farewell dinner with Dudley 
Morgan, whose gratitude knew no bounds. He paid 
a visit to Luke Woodstock, said good-bye to Mr 
Dennin, and was then ready to bid his adieux to his 
own immediate circle at the St. Nicholas, to which 
the party had returned. 

He had a long talk with Stanley, one of the last 
things he did, about Rosalie. 

** I hope you are satisfied with her appearance, as 
regards health and intelligence," said Stanley. ** You 
are equally her guardian with the rest of us, you 
know." 

Lysle could not answer otherwise than in the 
aflSrmative. 

' She is a beautiful g^rl,'* he said, " and remark- 
able in many respects. I know that Miss Steiner 
feels that you have robbed her of her childhood, by 
giving her the experiences of older people, but I can 
see that it has its advantages. She is /earning to 
read French with wonderful rapidity., I do not 
b«lieve she will be behind other children of her age 



la the ordinary ttudies, when she is twdve, if yon 

let her go on now. Her brain is so strong that she 
seems to have no mental wear. There is only one 
thing that I would suggest, and that is that she 
/leeds polishing a little, in view of the rough child- 
hood she has had. She is a girl who will have to 
live with people of some fashion when she grows 
up, and it will not do to let her get so grounded in 
her natural ways that she can never outgrow them.* 

To this Stanley responded that he was most grati* 
fied to find that his cousin was so well pleased with 
*ihe efiEorts he had made, and said that he should 
bear in mind his suggestions. 

**! have seen so many puny children,'* he said, 
** that I wanted to give her a body, to begin with. 
It will not be as hard as you might imagine to 
* polish ' her, as you call it. When she grows older, 
she will be anxious to make a good impression, and 
the ordinary child is an imitative creature. Rosalie 
has all the best personal habits already, and she has 
also the virtues of obedience and politeness. There 
will be no trouble in making her fit for society, 
by the time she wants it. I shall do everything for 
the best, as I understand it, while you are away, but 
you will return before long, I hope.** 

Lysle answered that he could not tell when he 
should come to America again. He preferred the 
life of Europe to that of his native country. Per- 
haps, he said, Miss Steiner and Stanley would after 
awhile take a trip across the ocean with Rosalie. It 
would be a good thing for the child, and not a bad 
one for them. 

" I hope we may do so," replied Stanley, thinking 
it the easiest way to agree with him, though he had 
mo idea the Uung proposed would soon come to pa^ 



146 wanuxsQ a iiAjomsf. 

""There is one thing, though, that you have not doni; 
that is in a sense your duty. You have not examined 
the investments that I have made of Rosalie's for- 
Itune." 

Lysle laughed. 

** I think I will risk them," he said. " You are 
reputed to be one of the best judges of values in 
New York, and I am certainly one of the poorest.** 

"Well," said Stanley, ** they are open to you at 
any time. I think I have done pretty well for her. 
She is not spending half of her income. There will 
be a large sum by the time she is old enough to 
receive it.'* 

They went in together to consult with Miss Steiner, 
and so well was everything managed by Stanley, 
who directed the conversation, that she appeared to 
have nothing at all to complain of. She felt herself 
crushed between these men, one of whom she dis. 
liked and the other of whom she had begun to dis- 
trust. Lysle advanced his proposition that his 
co-guardians should visit him the next time in Paris, 
saying that Stanley had given his partial assent, but 
Miss Steiner aroused herself for once and put in an 
imperative negative, 

** I should never consent to take the child to that 
city," she said, with animation. **It is not the right 
place for a young girl." 

" Pshaw !" responded Lysle, impatiently. " Paris 
is all right for a girl, if she is well guarded, and that 
is all you can say of any other place. But if you 
have a prejudice against the city of my adoption, 
"i^hy, go to Germany. I will come to Heidelberg to 
meet you — the town where you used to live." 

At these words, Miss Steiner grew unaccountably 
wbite about the lips. Stanley, seeing that, for some 



BjTSterious reason, she was as averse to this sugges« 
tion as to the other, and thinking it the part of wis-, 
dom to side with Lysle, warmly commended the 
plan. 

" Rosalie could see her birthplace, then," he said, 
** and she would have the best of opportunities to fix 
her German accent. Heidelberg is the place, by all 
means. Her father is buried there, I believe ?" 

Miss Steiner responded to the latter question by a 
simple nod. Something was affecting her deeply. 

" And her mother, also ?" asked Lysle. 

* No— that is, yes," replied Miss Steiner, much 
Agitated. 

Lysle began to be sorry that he had alluded to a 
subject that was evidently so painful. 

" I crave your pardon," he said, in a low voice. 
•*I did not mean to arouse sad memories. They 
were very dear to you, of course. I was thought- 
less." 

Stanley eyed the woman sharply. He thought 
her sudden shock very strange indeed. 

•• We must all die," he said, coldly, *' but that is no 
reason why we should never visit a place where ouf 
friends breathed their last. If we come to Europe, 
Lysle, I shall certainly take Rosalie to see the graves 
of her parents. And it seems to me that I could be 
trusted to give her a view of Paris, also, if Miss Steiner 
does not wish to risk a personal visit to that dreadful 
city. Rosalie is not being brought up like other 
children. She will have sense enough to know good 
from evil when she is of an age to require it. I hate 
to think of a young person as one who has to be shut 
up in a cage for fear she will go astray. Rosalie 
ought to include travel i» her education. I mean to 
find leisure enough to go with her, within a (err 



iit ■OCLimre ▲ UAIOEH. 

jFtart. iiod if fhe shoald see Europe, she certaialy 
Oiast not miss Paris. Nor — nor Heidelberg, either," 
be added, pointedly, with his eyes full on the shrink* 
ing form of Miss Steiner. 

After Lysle had gone, Miss Steiner found herself 
more under the control of the elder Melrose than she 
iiad ever been. He was free from the fear of any 
immediate combination between her and Lysle, and 
he did as he pleased in everything that related to 
Rosalie, without hardly asking her opinion. The 
child grew in stature and beauty, and her progress 
in her studies was simply marvellous. When she 
had acquired the art of reading French with reason* 
able fluency, he changed her governess for one who 
could also teach German, and she plunged into the 
books of that tongue. English she may almost be 
said to have learned to read by herself, as she fre- 
quently buried her little head in the volumes around 
her and studied out the things that she found there. 

Stanley still took her on the longest walks, both 
winter and summer, and during the open season he 
sent her into the hills and to the beaches, where she 
imbibed the clear atmosphere and let the sun pour 
its virtues into her blood through the natural chan- 
nels of the skin. He bought her a sturdy pony, of 
great endurance, upon which she rode many miles 
each day, often at break-neck speed, especially if he 
was with her. Stanley was a splendid rider himself, 
jmd the pair attracted general attention wherever 
they went, by the perfect ease with which they rode 
their beasts, and by their obliviousness to every one 
around them when engaged in this exercise. When 
they were far from town, in one of the secluded dis- 
tricts of the country, they were more like two com- 
|MUiions of even age than guardian and ward. There 



A DEMOBAXIZINO PBA0TIC8. 149 

was no tree so tall that either of them could not dimb 
it, no river so wide or so swift that they cotild not 

swim to the other side. 

Galloping across the fields they " took ** fences hi 
a way that would have aroused the envy of an Eng- 
lish fox hunter. Rosalie had a revolver when she 
was ten, and was able in a short time to hit a large 
copper cent at fifteen paces. The next year she had 
a small rifie, and she astonished a farmer near the 
hotel where she was spending part of the summer by 
bringing him the dead body of a large-sized hawk 
which had been playing sad havoc with his poultry. 

Miss Steiner had become quite hopeless of the 
advent of that happy time when the process of mak« 
ing Rosalie into a " young lady " was to be beg^n. 
She followed Stanley and her ward on their trips, bttt 
she was of little account in their eyes. Her letters 
from Lysle were few and far between. 

There was nothing to do but wait. 

Even in the winter, when staying at the St. Nicho- 
las, Stanley did not neglect the physical development 
of the young girl. He made her attend three times 
each week a gymnasium for ladles, where she 
developed a muscle that put her at the head of the 
entire class. She was very strong before, but the 
careful training of her teacher added greatly to her 
capacity for lifting weights and for using her arms 
and limbs in many ways. There is a familiar story 
of a woman who carried a calf up-stairs when it was- 
very young, and continued to carry it each day until 
it became a full-sized ox. The effect of a gradual 
increase of work upon the muscular powers !• 
undoubtedly great. Prepared by the whole course 
of her life for the extraordinary exertions she was 
esUad upon to make, Rosalie distancad all of her 



IfiO MOIIt^DIBO 4 ICAIDiar. 

fivais at the gymnasium, and became the pupA wht 
was referred to whenever the remarkable possibilitiei 
of the school were to be talked of to applicants. 

It must not be inferred that the child was on all 
occasions a " tomboy," however. She had a natural 
grace that never forsook her. Her manners in a 
hotel parlor» or at table, were perfect. She had 
never lived with inferior people, and had had no 
opportunity to learn their ways. The only thing 
that Miss Steiner objected to was her lack of those 
conventionaliiies which are lumped under the head 
of " style," in the lexicon of fashion. She would not 
consent that her hair should be touched with a curling 
iron, and she rejected the first pair of high-heeled 
boots offered her, on the ridiculous ground that they 
were uncomfortable. She picked out her own hats 
from the double standpoint of adaptability to her 
face and capacity to endure the weather, regardless 
of changing shapes. People always paused as she 
passed them to say, *' What a beautiful girl !" but 
they often added — if they were women — " What a 
pity it is that some one does not show her how to 
dress I" 

But Rosalie cared nothing for their opinion. She 
could ride better than any of them, walk her four 
miles an hour, and Stanley was satisfied with her. 
Miss Steiner did not count, and as for Lysle, she had 
•Imoct foi^ottea iuok 



BB4WXSO F£OM MLLS. fUZBRS. Vfl 



CHAPTER XIL 

DRAWING FROM MLLE. SUZETTK. 

One of the first things that Mr. Carlysle Melrott 
did, after he returned to Paris, was to make another 
effort to get the girl, Suzette, to sit as model 
for the picture he had been compelled to leave 
unfinished. He felt all the ardor of a student who 
has been on a vacation, and knew that he was 
exactly in the mood to do the best kind of work, 
if he could only get the materials. He would not 
go, himself, to the girl's rooms, as he did not like to 
risk encountering Arthur Peck there, but he sent 
one of his artist friends on the errand. The report 
he received was that Peck had gone to America on 
business, but had left the girl well provided for, and 
had conjured her, with his last words, not to allow 
Lysle to persuade her to go to his studio under any 
circumstances. 

** He was most particular about It," she had said to 
the messenger, ** and, had I not given him a positive 
promise, he would have insisted on taking me to 
America to make sure. He said I might go where I 
liked, do what I liked, and get what I liked, during 
his absence, so that I did not give a sitting to the 
American monsieur." 

Lysle's friend asked her if she was so deeply in 
Hove with Peck that she could not be influenced by 
a large present of money. 

" Oh, he is nothing at all to me, so far as lova 
jgots,^' she responded, shrugging her shoulders. 



15S UODLDIB^ ▲ XAIDBB. 

'*But ke has left me five buadred fnnct a montl^ 
and he says I shall always have as much. I had a 
real lover once — Monsieur Lysle knew him— whom I 
loved very dearly, but five hundred francs is not so 
bad. Besides, I should really be afraid of him if he 
came back and found I had disobeyed. He is not 
nice when he is angry. Ugh !" 

The girl expressed in pantomine the appearance 
of Mr, Peck's features when he was out of temper, 
and the messenger, seeing that there was nothing 
more to be said, withdrew. 

Lysle swallowed the disappointment as well as he 
could, but it was a bitter one. He went on with 
other work, and sent one of his studies of Rosalie to 
the Salon, where it brought him a medal. Frequent 
requests for the price of his works began to come to 
him, and the portrait of his ward especially seemed 
to strike the fancy of collectors. Some of those who 
wished to purchase could not understand his state- 
ment that he would not sell, and seemed to take it 
merely as a shrewd plan to put up the price. 

•* Oh, come, now, that is not reasonable," said one 
dealer, who had been told by a customer to buy the 
•* Rosalie " at any price. " You have a right to ask 
a good sum for the canvas, but you ought to put a 
figure on it. I will give you ten thousand francs, 
and say no more about it." 

The artist looked at the man contemptuously. 

" It is the picture of a relation," he said, " I tell 
JfOU that no sum you could name would buy it." 

•* A relation ? Ah, that alters the case. I will 
give yoM — ^let me see — yes, fifteen thousand," replied 
the persistent dealer. 

Lysle disdained to answer the proposition. 

**! suppose you would like to get twenty^lNa 



DBAWLNG FSOM MLLB. SUZBTTB. 158 

thousand,** continued the man, who would have paid 
that sum gladly. " It is a great deal of money for a 
little thing like that. You are too high in your 
ideas. However — " 

" Will you never understand .?" exclaimed Lysle, 
becoming nettled. " I tell you it is not for sale. 
No, not if you offered a hundred thousand francs, 
I will not part with it !" 

The dealer seemed to comprehend at last. 

•* Have you anything that you will sell T* he 
inquired, humbly. 

" Nothing. Nothing whatever. I never have 
sold a picture and never shall." 

Muttering his disappointment, the art dealer went 
his way. It was lucky for him, he thought, that all 
painters were not like M. Melrose. Most of them 
were glad enough to pocket the price of their 
work as soon as it could be got on the market. 
But he was an American, and that accounted for it. 
There was nothing like an American. Every one of 
them had an immense fortune and there was no need 
of their selling anything unless they chose. 

Several letters were received from Stanley, breath- 
ing good wishes. One came from Miss Steiner, in 
quite a different vein from those that she used to 
send him. He knew that he had fallen from her 
good graces in some way, but could not guess how, 
and he did not care enough about the matter to let 
it trouble him. He had not increased his esteem for 
that lady on his recent trip. She seemed to him 
notional, and not as good a judge as Stanley of what 
was best, for their ward. His estimate of the latter 
was increased to a great extent, several months after 
his return to Paris, by a letter, part of which ran in 
thte wUe ' 



UOUUXSQ A MAIDSK. 

** I have been able to do a service for you, which I 
am sure you will appreciate, and of which it gives 
me the greatest pleasure to inform you. In the 
course of my law business I have lately been brought 
in contact with Mr. Carlos Peck, the electrical 
inventor, whose son you know so well, or I ought to 
say, perhaps, so badly. I was placed in a position 
where he had to ask favors of me, and I made it the 
basis of a demand from his son Arthur, that he should 
write to the girl Suzette, bidding her go at once to 
your studio, and place herself under your orders. 
The father did not know the story, of course, but he 
understood that his son's consent to something that 
I asked was necessary to obtain what he wished. 
Arthur held back a long time, but finally said he 
would write to her, and he will do so, I am confident 
So if she comes to you, you will know why, and 
hasten to take advantage of the opportunity.** 

To say that this delighted Lysle feebly expresses 
its effect. He wrote his cousin a warm letter of 
thanks for the pains he had taken, and awaited the 
coming of his model with anxiety. In a few days 
she knocked at his studio door, in a state of high 
excitement. She held in her hand two letters, one 
written to herself, in French, the other to Lysle, in 
English. She began at once to upbraid her absent 
lover, in a high key, but Lysle was too much occu- 
pied in reading the note addressed to him to under- 
stand her. This was Peck's English letter : 

•* Do not think, because I am compelled to send 
this girl to you, that I like you any better. You may 
thank your cousin Stanley for it, not me. I have 
with him to help you in this matter, and I 



DBAWING FBOH MLLS. SOBSSmPL IM 

hare written Suzette a note that will, if I am not 
much mistaken, put her exactly in the mood for your 
purpose. Use your paints while the pretty anger is 
on, for I shall come back to Paris within a month 
and reclaim her. Write to Stanley that I have kept 
my word with him in full. If Suzette looks as I 
have seen her on certain occasions, you will make 
your everlasting fame by this one picture alone." 

Lysle looked up after reading it and saw Suzette 
standing in a great rage, by his side, uttering with 
rapidity and venom the most frightful diatribes 
against the author. 

" What does he mean, this dog ?" she asked. " He 
writes that you will tell me. He intimates that some 
one has written to him that I have been unfaithful, I 
who have hardly been outside my door since he went 
away ! Ah ! what a beast it is ! He wants to escape 
paying me my five hundred francs a month, and he 
is not honest enough to tell the simple truth 1" 

Thus she went on, and Lysle, too much an artist 
not to profit by the opportunity, as he had been 
advised, quietly placed his unfinished picture on his 
easel, and worked away on it, with bounding pulses, 
pausing only to interject a word now and then to 
keep her at the fever heat which she had assumed at 
the beginning. She had the very expression of face 
that he wanted, and he made rapid progress. Deem- 
ing it wise not to let her suspect what he was doing, 
as she had on the previous occasion, he kept the 
picture with its back to her, and at the end put it 
aside and began to express sympathy. 

"I will look into that matter," said he, "and sec 
whether there is not some way that you can compel 
him to send you the money. The American laws arc 



Ifii momixsa a haidbv. 

not the same as those of Prance. If yon wHIcatt 
here again, say the day after to-morrow, I will try 
to tell you all about it.*' 

She thought he was very kind, and by-and-by she 
calmed down enough to promise what he wished. 
He felt heartily ashamed when she was gone, at the 
deception he had practiced for the second time, and 
also at having become, in a certain sense, a partner 
of Peck, whom he thoroughly disliked and despised. 
He read the latter's note over again, and smiled 
scornfully. Then he turned back to his picture, and 
found compensation for everything in the progress 
he had made. 

The painting was in a critical stage, but three or 
four more such " posings " as he had had to-day 
would complete it. Surely it would be a great 
work when it was done, and worthy to take a place 
with anything of the contemporaneous school. He 
sat there for hours absorbed in the delighted con- 
templation, and went out upon the street at last with 
a light heart and a quick step, to join his compan- 
ions in one of the restaurants for dinner. 

As he drew near to the place, he met the girl 
Clothilde, who had served for a short time as a 
model at M. Jouanneau's, mention of which was 
made in a preceding chapter. The suffering of the 
child — for so he called her — during the nude seances, 
seemed not to decrease with any number of them, 
and his sympathies were aroused when he found 
her each night shedding bitter tears, in spite of the 
harsh injunctions of her mother not to make a dunce 
of herself. One day, when she came alone, she had 
confided to him that the woman was only her step- 
mother, and that since they had been prospered 
CMmcially, she had done little beside drink, taking 



laUWINO FBOM MLLB. SUZBTTB. lit 

all the money that the girl brought home and hardly 
allowing her enough to buy necessary food and 

clothing. 

" Oh, monsieur," she cried, in heartfelt angruish, 
** if you knew how distasteful this profession is to 
«ie ! I think some day, when I have to come here, I 
shall throw myself into the Seine ! If there were 
anything else that I could do, even though the pay 
was very little !" 

This made a deep impression upon Lysle, and 
when, a few days later, Clothilde told him that her 
step-mother had been sent to prison for theft, he 
exerted himself, through some friends, and secured 
a position for the girl in the Magazin du Louvre. 
For awhile he saw her quite frequently, but after 
that, as there seemed no need of his assistance, 
Clothilde forebore to visit his studio except upoa 
some holiday or similar special occasion. 

" I hate to say anything to you," said the girl, in 
a low tone. ** for I have already made you too much 
trouble." 

** Not at all,** he replied. " I have told you to 
come to me always when there is any way in which 
I can help you. What has happened ?" 

** Well, it is all because of Madame Jouet. She 
happened in at the store one day, and saw me behind 
the counter ; and that night she waited for me and 
followed me home. She does nothing now but 
steal, and she told me that I had the best chance in 
the world to make a good deal of money by taking 
things from the magazin, and letting her sell them. 
She annoyed me so much that I changed my room, 
but she came straight to the magazin and found me, 
so that did no good. When I refused to have any- 
thing more to do with her, she told al! the girls who 



158 VOULDINO A MAIDEN. 

were on my counter that I vtas her daughter, and 
that I had been an artist's model ; and from that 
time I have had no end of trouble. She came in 
often, and the managers said I must stop it. I tried 
to explain it to them, but they would not listen, 
and finally they gave me my discharge." 

The young artist was very sorry for the girl, and 
he gave her some money on the spot, agreeing to 
call at her room the next day and have a long talk 
about what it was best to do. She had the greatest 
faith in him, as well as a complete reliance upon his 
judgment, and she accepted the silver and left him 
with a merci. He studied her case a good deal that 
evening, and tried to think where he might find 
another situation for her, but none presented itself 
to his mind. He felt that he was in a measure 
responsible for her, as she had left her profession of 
model on his advice, and had looked to him so long 
as a protector. 

He ate dinner with his friends, quite preoccupied 
with these thoughts, and the next day he went to 
see her, as he had promised. The result of their 
conference was a decision that she should leave her 
name at several agencies for the employment of 
house servants, and await the result. 

"You must come to me for money whenever you 
need it," he said, "until you are employed again." 

He was so wrapped up in his great painting that 
he could hardly think of anything else till that was 
completed. Many hours each day he stood over it, 
mieasuring its lines with his eyes and instruments, 
calculating the effect of a bit more color here and a 
trifle deeper shading there. Suzette came to learn 
what he had found about the American laws which 
govern the relations of young men and their sweet* 



BBAWIKG rSOM UIXB. fCSSlTS. lit 

bearts, and by saying what he chose he obtained the 
emotion on her countenance that he needed. Befort 
the painting was completed he had worked her into 
siKh a frenzy about Arthur Peck that she would 
probably have tried to kill him had he chanced to 
enter the studio. 

But at last it was finished. The necessity for 
deception was ended. And then he told her that he 
had learned that her lover had tired of his own 
accord of his absence, and was about to return to 
the arms he loved best on earth. 

Peck was bound to keep to the literal agreement 
he had made with Stanley, but he did not intend 
to exceed it by the breadth of a hair. Lysle had 
completed his picture just in time. Suzette called 
within a few days to show a letter that she had 
received, announcing that he would be in Paris 
immediately, and that he should fly to her side 
with all speed. He had tried living without her, 
he wrote, and could not endure it, with much 
more to the same ingenious effect. The mercurial 
girl, as delighted as she had been indignant, danced 
about the studio. 

** I did not think you cared so much for him,"* 
Lysle told her, as she executed a/aj seul that would 
have done credit to one of the dancers in the 
Mabille. 

" For him /" she screamed. ** For him f For his 
five hundred francs, you mean ! I like to ride in the 
Bois, in a fine carriage, and to dine in the great res- 
taurants on the boulevards. For him I care as 
much as for this shoe ; he keeps my feet from 
touching the dirt, that's all !" 

He could not help being sorry for ber, for hekaew 
^le had oaoc had better ideals. 



100 MOULDING ▲ UAWaU 

"Did yoa ever hear from Aadr6F* be adMdh 

gently. 

She sobered very suddenly. 

"Yes, once, by a newspaper. He is married totbt 
daughter of a rich man near Lyons. It was all right. 
He did all he agreed to for me. I knew he would 
have to go. But, man dieu^ how I loved him !** 

It was quite awhile before Clothilde found any 
situation that she thought she could fill, where the 
advertisers were of the same opinion with her on 
that point. She came to tell Lysle one day that she 
had a place in the Rue Marbeuf. 

**It is a queer menage,** she told him. "The 
man is an American, and the woman— of course she 
is not his wife — is a French girl who would pass for 
a grisette were it not for her good clothes. I have 
the rooms to keep in order, and their affairs are 
nothing to me. I should not speak of them to any 
one but you. The gentleman has just returned 
from a visit to America, and they have nice quar- 
rels sometimes. He has tried already to kiss me^ 
but madame has her eyes on him. I do not like the 
way he acts, but I must bear it, I suppose. I could 
sot depend forever on your bounty, and really, there 
is no danger.** 

Lysle had been staHng at her in a startled way. 
He instantly suspected who this American was, 

• What is his name ?*' he inquired. 

" It is an odd name,*' said she. " Something like 
Villamsen." 

** Williamson T 

"Yes, that is it.** 

He felt convinced that the name was assumed. 
He rose abruptly and went to get his new psiatiny 
Fladog U on «8 easel, be called Clothilda.^ 



vsuLwrna fbom mll£. suzbttsl 161 

* t am going to show you something I have just 
Inished. You are not to talk about it, for it ita 
secret yet. What do you think of that ?** 

It was now Clothilde's turn to start. 

** It is she !** she gasped, 

"She? Who?" 

'* Madame Villemsen ! The lady I am working 
for I" 

** What makes you think that ?" 

The girl rubbed her eyes. 

•* I am sure ! Where did you get it V 

** I made it myself." 

"You made it ! She has been here ?" 

"Well, yes," he admitted, laughing at her earn* 
estness. 

The startled look did not leave her face. 

** Then it was you that they were talking about 
last night," she went on. ** He spoke about her 
having been to see some artist, and insinuated that 
she had fallen in love with him. This she denied, 
and their words got very high. Then he told her 
that she did not look pretty when she was in a 
rage, and that the artist had made a copy of her face 
in a passion and was going to exhibit it in the great 
gallery at the Palais de 1* Industrie. I heard him 
say it was the second time the same artist had fooled 
her. He seemed to take great delight in making 
her angry. They were three hours quarreling 
before they fell asleep. But it is not my affair. 
She is to give me twelve francs a week and every- 
thing found." 

Lysle had food for a good deal of thought in 
these things. He cautioned Clothilde not to men- 
tion in any way that she knew hina, and for the next 



m "MOXILmSQ A MA.IXUEH. 

month he exerdsed more care than usual !n his 
movements. 

One day Clothilde came to him with a serious 
story. Monsieur Williamson had persecuted her 
with his unwelcome attentions until she could bear 
it no longer. That morning, while madame was out 
on the street shopping, he had attempted to embrace 
her, and she had had a desperate struggle with him. 
She did not dare continue in the situation, and yet 
she dreaded placing herself again under the bounty 
of M. Lysle. It seemed that Peck had recognized 
her as the original of a painting that M. Jouanneau 
had placed on exhibition, no other, in fact, than the 
sleeping beauty on the sands, and brutally told her 
that squeamishness was wholly out of place in a 
model who had posed in that position. 

" That dreadful picture will keep me from ever 
getting a respectable place in Paris," she said, tear- 
fully. " No one will believe I am in earnest in wish- 
ing to lead a good life." 

** Asses I" was his angry comment. " I do not see 
but one thing for you to do, then. You will have to 
overcome your scruples and take up your old pro- 
fession." 

" Impossible !*' she cried. " Besides, I am older 
now, and it would be more disagreeable than ever. 
I would rather starve !" 

He relapsed into deep thought for several 
moments. 

" I am going to paint a new picture, myself," he 
said, when he raised his eyes. " You would not 
nind sitting to me.'* 

** Nude ?" 

** Certainly." 

•*I would rather sit to any other man in Paris," 



nuTmro fsom mlle. suzbtts. Idft 

His astonishment was written in Iiis eyes. 

" What do you mean ?" 

She did not answer, and the expression of hef face 
troubled him a good deal. He was sorry he had made 
the suggestion. After a little while he told her that 
she would have to apply once more at the agencies 
and come to him once a week for money, as she 
used, until she found something to do. 

** I can never come to you for money again," she 
replied, her voice trembling. " You have offered me 
a chance to earn it and I have refused. I know you 
think me silly, if not ungrateful. I will do the best 
I can, but I shall not come back to you." 

He rose, and walking to where she sat, put hit 
hand in a paternal fashion on her head. 

" My little girl is disposed to be naughty," he said. 
" She ought to know that it will give me the greatest 
pleasure to assist her, and that it would distress mf 
beyond measure to think that she kept any of hef 
troubles from me. I am guardian for another girl, 
too, did you know that ? A tittle American who may 
be coming here by-and-by, and whom I would like to 
have know you. They tell me in America that 
Parisians are wicked, but I know of one with whom 
I would trust my little Rosalie." 

She caught eagerly at the idea. 

*' Send for her," she said, " and let me be her ser- 
vant. I will wait on her faithfully. And could you 
not " — she glanced around his rooms — " could you 
not let me stay here somewhere till she comes ? I 
could take care of your clothes, and keep your rooms 
in order, and cook your coffee in the morning. I 
should not need any wages, hardly, and I would eat 
wcry little. Oh, M. Lysle, try mef You woold 
never be sorry." 



IM MouLDiMa A uxmsx. 

The idea did not commend itself favorably to hlfli, 
but she pleaded so hard that he said at last he would 
ask the concierge whether she did not require an 
assistant. 

The woman, who knew the easy road to Lysle's 
pocket-book, which was frequently opened for her 
on numerous pretences, smiled wisely when he told 
her the story, and said she could accommodate mad- 
emoiselle, if it was any object to monsieur. 

*• You will only have to give her food and a bed,** 
said he, never dreaming what was in the woman's 
mind. " I will furnish the ten francs a week that you 
will agree to pay her. She is an honest girl, I am 
sure, and will do everything you tell her." 

The concierge courtesied. She had her own 
notions about the matter, but she thought it wiser 
to please monsieur. She knew a girl could save her 
a good many steps, and it would be a cheap way to 
get an assistant. If monsieur had other ideas, what 
was it to her ? She had always found him generous, 
and she had no fear but he would continue to be so. 

Clothilde brought her small belongings the next 
day, and installed herself in the hotel where Lysle 
now had both his studio and living apartments. She 
did the work required of her, and was quite happy. 
Sometimes she gave a sitting to her benefactor, that 
he might sketch her face, which he found more 
worthy of his pencil than he had originally thought. 
When she had nothing else to do she liked nothing 
better than to curl up on a sofa in his studio, and 
watch him at work, hours and hours together. 



*«i^ 18 THAT BSUQIOVP 



CHAPTER TOTL 

••OB, IS THAT RELIGION f* 

Thirteen years old ! Yes, Miss Rosalie had 
reached that important mile-post in Che life of a 
young person. 

Miss Steiner had been chafing more than ever of 
late at her total lack of ability to infiuence the educa- 
tion of the child. Stanley Melrose had become more 
and more arbitrary as the years rolled away. 

To be sure, he had thus far treated her always 
with external politeness. To be sure, Rosalie had 
never given her a word that could be considered In 
itself objectionable. But Stanley managed as he 
pleased, and the girl was a valiant ally to him in 
everything. 

At thirteen Rosalie had a figure that would have 
enabled her to pass for fifteen at least. She was 
quite tall and well developed enough for the latter 
age, as straight as an arrow, well poised, with 
rounded limbs, on which no superfluous flesh could 
be found. She had grown handsomer each year, 
though her sunburned beauty might have caused a 
Fifth avenue belle to shrug her shoulders at the 
appellation. The rich, healthful blood that coursed 
through her veins could be seen in the glorious 
color that mantled her cheek, and her eyes were as 
bright as gems of the first water. 

In her studies she had made the most rapid pro* 
gress. She could now read fluently in each of the 
languages that she bad acquirMi, an4 oouM 



lit MOULDING ▲ MATDint.. 

converse to a considerab^ extent ia Spanlsti •■41 
Italiao also. She had devoured the ordinary 
** English branches ** in a quarter of the time usually 
taken for that purpose. It was not necessary to 
drill her after the parrot method. When she had 
read anything once, she knew it as well as though 
«he had been over it a dozen times. History she 
absorbed as a plant does water. She learned 
geography and astronomy, physiology and philosophy 
with a facility that astounded her teachers. 

Stanley was very proud of her, and proud also of 
his " method," which he believed was largely entitled 
to the credit of all this success. 

Miss Steiner had the nominal charge of Rosalie's 
wardrobe, though the girl wore nothing but what 
Stanley approved of. He did not believe in the 
healthfulness of the *' knee-skirts " that young girls 
usually use, and for a long time Rosalie had had 
dresses that reached very nearly to the tops of her 
boots. He would have liked to dress her on a wholly 
reformed model, as he despised the entire fabric of 
feminine attire, but he did not like to attract as 
much attention to her as this would have done, in a 
city like New York. As she was compelled to wear 
dresses, and as fashion gave her thin stockings, he 
had insisted that her skirts should be long enough to 
ensure warmth for the lower limbs, believing that the 
extremities were in as much need of protection, at 
least, as the parts of the human frame nearer the 
heart. But when he returned, on her thirteenth 
birthday, from a trip of two weeks into another part 
of the country — where his law business had called 
him — he found her arrayed in new garments, three 
or four inches longer than the old ones. 

As en artist can entirely alter a picture by 



•oh, is that RiuGioa"?* I6.7 

nark of his pencil, so Miss Steiner had made another 
creature of Rosalie by this slight addition to th« 
length of her skirts. 

Stanley did not like it. He thought such a pro- 
nounced change ought not to have been made with* 
ou*^ a formal consultation with him. But this was 
not his strongest feeling, as he gazed on the trans- 
formation. He knew in a moment that the child had 
gone, and forever. It was a young woman who stood 
before him — and he had an almost irresistible inclina- 
ation to address her as " Miss." 

Rosalie comprehended a little of what was passing 
in his mind, amd waited shyly before saying much to 
him. The change had been rather agreeable to her, 
as it seemed to give her a new importance — to make 
her a person of more consequence. She had stood 
before the mirror longer on the day she first donned 
those clothes than in any previous week of her life. 
She was not looking at her face, either, but at her 
form, heightened, it seemed, by the change in her 
dress. The first doubt she had felt about the mattef 
was when she saw the odd look in Stanley's counte- 
nance. 

** You don't like it," she said, softly, as soon as she 
could speak to him alone. ** I will put these dresses 
away and get my others out." 

*' I — I am not sure whether I like it or not," he 
answered, slowly. " It is a great change and my 
•eyes have not had time to get used to it. It seems 
to please you, though," he added. 

** Nos unless it does you," was the immediate 
reply. 

* We will let it go for the present, and that will 
jive us time to decide," he said, ** Whose idea was 
kt, Mist Steiner's or yours T' 



168 MOULDOia A KAUHOI. 

** Her's. I had to have some new clotbet» aad At 
Mid to the dressmaker : * Don't you think they 
ought to be a little longer, now that she is so nearly 
thirteen ?* And the dressmaker agreed with her. 
And I did not see any harm in it." 

He had known that she would be a woman some 
day, if she lived. He had thought of it very, very 
ofteo. But he had not foreseen that she might lose 
her childhood in one moment, as she seemed to have 
done. He had anticipated a very slow and gradual 
change that would be presaged for a long time, like 
the rising of the sun. He had never thought that 
she could bound into womanhood like this, without 
the least warning ! 

** And so you are thirteen ?" he said, musingly. 

•* Yes— to-day." 

It was a stupendous fact, and it staggered him. 
For a minute he was afraid of her. Yesterday, before 
those dresses were let down, he could have taken her 
on his knee. 

** What shall I get you for your birthday ?** he 
inquired, constrainedly. 

*' I do not wish for anything, Stanley, unless it be 
some little keepsake. It is enough to have you home 
again," 

How strangely this sounded, from that young 
lady t It would have come naturally enough from 
the little Rosalie he had left two weeks ago ; but 
from this one with the long skirts ! It was not at all 
the same. 

She knew that the change had separated him from 
her by a great distance, and it sobered her much to 
realize it. There was no one in the world for her 
like Stanley. She had been very lonely while he was 
ttwar 



^ OS, IS THAT KBUGION f* 1^9 

Stanley tore himself from her as soon as he could, 
«nd went to his own room. He was half inclined to 
be angry at the woman who was the cause of the 
change. 

He could think of nothing but this : Rosalie 
was a child yesterday, and she could never be one 
again ! 

That night he cut their usual walk much shorter 
than common. The girl noticed it, and it hurt her. 
She felt as she might if she had committed some fault 
that entitled her to his just displeasure. It was the 
dress — the miserable long skirts — that she had 
thought so nice that morning, as she stood, like a 
little peacock, m front of her mirror ! How she hated 
them ! 

*• Let me cftange back to the other dresses, Stanley,** 
she said, as they walked slowly down Broadway, 
after five minutes in which neither of them had 
spoken. 

He started. 

" What put that into your head ?*' he asked. 

** I know you do not like the new ones. I do not 
like them myself. I would much rather change back. 
The dressmaker can put in another hem, so they will 
be the same length as the old." 

There was a very strong element of entreaty In her 
tones, something he had tried to teach her never to 
indulge in. 

" Rosalie," he said, and stopped. It seemed as if 
he should have addressed her as "Miss Vandeo* 
hoff." 

She looked up at him. 

•* I have been thinking about it and have come te 
Ae conclusion that Miss Steiner and the dressotaker 
were right You — ^you art? tbirteeo.** 



"HO UOVUaSQ A MAIDElf. 

She bore an expression which plainly meant, * I 
am very sorry, and I hope you will try to forgive 
me.** But she waited for him to go on. 

** You are — thirteen," he repeated, drawing a long 
breath. ** According to the usages of fashion you 
would have had to do it soon, any way. It is of no 
use to go back to the old style now.** 

She was too distressed to reply. 

** I knew — of course I knew," he went on, " that 
you would be a young lady sometime, but I was not 
prepared for it so suddenly. It — it is all right. 
Even if you went back now, you would only have it 
to do over again later." 

She realized that this was true, and she heartily 
wished that it were not. She would have preferred 
to be a child all her life, so long as it was evident 
that Stanley would be better pleased that way. 
Still, she was not ready to adopt the title he had just 
given her. 

** I do not think I am exactly a * young lady,* yet,** 
she said. *' I am sure I feel just the same as I did 
yesterday, when I was only twelve." 

He stole a glance at her, aod was again impressed 
by the maturity that her new garments had given 
her. 

** Yes, you are a young lady,'* he replied. ** You 
are no longer a little girl, and there is nothing in 
between. You are certainly a young lady." 

She looked up at him again, with a shy glance— a 
thyness, he thought, bitt#»rly, that had come to her 
with those cursed clothes. 

**I do not want to be a young lady, if I can help 
it,** said Rosalie, as they walked along. " It seems 
•o dignified. I sha.l always want to romp and ni% 
lind ride horsey and jump fences.* 



"ai^ n TBja taojasosl" 171 

" Shall you f" be said, much gratified. It was Ultt 
a little of the lost child coming back to him. 

" Yes," she cried, gayly, " And we shall go iat9 
the couetry, just the same, shall we not ? And we 
will go to the beaches and swim out in the breakers, 
and you have promised me, as soon as I can shoot 
well enough, to take me into the Adirondacks, on a 
deer hunt !" 

He looked askance at the skirts again. 

** You could not get through the woods with thoso 
things dragging around you," he said. "They 
would catch on every bush we passed." 

** I would take them off," she responded, quickly 
•* When we are in the woods we will not care for 
looks. I will put on my old ones, then — or a boy's 
suit ! Oh, a boy's suit — that would be lovely !" 

He let her delight at the prospect warm him into 
equal pleasure for a moment, but the new conditioa 
of things came back. 

** I am not sure that I could go hunting with you 
at all, now," he said, dejectedly. " Your being 
thirteen will make many differences." 

She comprehended a little of his meaning, and the 
least trace of a blush came into her face, the first 
one of her life, 

" We can bathe, at least," she said, not willing to 
let go of everything at once. " Everybody bathes, 
fio matter how old they are. And we can ride 
horseback, and take long walks." 

*' Y-e-s," he answered. But he was not quite sure 
cf iL He was not sure that he would have any 
right ever to be alone with her after this. 

He determined to sound Miss Steiner on the 
question, and the next day, when Rosalie was at her 
studies, he called on that lady. He had not a very 



high idea of ber opinion on most things, tmt be 
tliought she might reasonably be supposed to know 
something about the one that just now interested 
him so much. He said to himself before he went 
that he should do as he pleased after the conference, 
but still he wanted to hear what she had to 
say. 

** I notice that you have considerably lengthened 
Miss Rosalie's dresses," said he, by way of begin- 
ning. 

He had never spoken of the girl to her with 
that title before, and she noticed it with a sort of 
gratification. He had tried not to do it, but he 
had to make some concessions to her new appear- 
ance. 

" She has grown so much in the last year that I 
thought it necessary," replied Miss Steiner. ** Do 
you think they are too long ?" 

•* No, I do not know that they are," he responded, 
thoughtfully. "Other girls of her age wear 
them the same length, I suppose. She — she is 
thirteen.** 

They seemed to be getting along so well that 
Miss Steiner was much encouraged. 

** Yes," she assented, ** and while it is true she is 
only thirteen, she has the height and the weight of 
many girls of fifteen. I have felt for a long time 
that her skirts should be longer." 

** She /tas a fine physical development," he said. 
•You know I take some credit for the treatment to 
which her frame has been subjected." 

She did not like to admit too much. 

**Her father was a large man. It is natura! that 
•be should take after him in that respect" 



*OB, IB fOAT BEUOION ?* 

Me did not fancy the word "latgt " appUod t* 

fLosalie. 

^ She will not be very * large/ I think," said lit: 
"Siie will be tali — ^yes, taller than the average ; bat 
^le will never be stout. She has very firm flesh, but 
the is not inclined to adiposity. And so her father 
was a large man ?" he added, finding that an interest- 
ing theme. He had never heard much about Van* 
denhoff, 

" He was larger than most men," said Miss Steiner, 
showing instantly that she wished to avoid furthtr 
reference to the subject. But he persisted. 

** And her mother — was she large, also ?" 

** No — not very — that is, she was about the atoal 
height," responded Miss Steiner, in undoubted con* 
fusion. 

He had often noticed that she never alluded to 
Rosalie's mother without exhibiting trepidation, and 
with his legal bent of mind he had tried many timet 
to assign a reason, but could not 

*'You have no picture of Mr. VandenSioff, I 
believe ?" he said. 

" No, nothing at all" 

" Nor of her ?" 

Again he marked the uneasinesf with wMch tiM 
met the question. 

" Nothing," she answered, huskily. 

He mused a moment and then remarked kow 
strange it was, in this age, that a gentleman and hit 
wife should have left no portraits whatever behind 
them. 

** Did they never have any taken f he asked. 

** Yes," she stammered. " There were several— -but 
•»-they were all destroyed. A— a fire—brokt out nad 
cverft^uflff was Imt^.." 



Ifl muLbiiro ▲ iciibts. 

He ejred her narrowly, with the gaxe of a law]ftff 
who knows what it is to cross-question a shrinking 
witness. 

"A fire?^ he repeated. **I had never heard of 
that." 

''It was a long time ago,** she said, breathing 
heavily. 

** Was — was anything else lost in that fire T* he 
asked, leaning forward. 

She lifted her eyes to his, and her face was Tery 
white. 

** What do you mean ?** she asked, hardly above a 
whisper. 

** Were the pictures all that was burned T* 

The question was innocent enough, and there 
seemed no hidden meaning behind it, but she trem* 
bled visibly. 

"Everything was destroyed — everything in the 
house,*' she responded. 

A thought struck him and he put it into words. 

** Was any one hurt ?" 

She shrank as if he had struck her, but answered 
instantly : 

" No one.*' 

There was evidently something about the occur- 
rence that distressed her greatly, but there seemed 
no need of prolonging her agony, merely for his 
entertainment, and Stanley changed the subject back 
to its original form. 

** Miss Rosalie is a very intelligent girl,** he said. 

Miss Steiner assented. 

** ohe is as far advanced in her studies, I think, as 
■lost girls of — of thirteea ** 

•* Oh, yes.*' 

* Is there— 4s there anything you would suggest 



' Oi^ M THAT RELIGION?" ITS 

Ibat the should be taught, more than she is airaady 
studying ?" 

It was so marvelous that he should propound such 
a query as this to her, after all these years in which 
be had ignored her suggestions, that Miss Steiner 
paused to recover her breath. 

** There is only one thing that I deem important,** 
she said, after a little. *' I cannot help feeling that 
a young girl needs religious training." 

** How much ?'* he asked, in a business like tone. 
** And how would you suggest it ought to bs 
given ?** 

** Rosalie has had none at all, you know,** she said, 
and it sounded like an accusation against him. 

•* She says her prayers every night.** 

" Yes, but — you will excuse me for saying it — she 
knows that you do not think the act of very great 
importance." 

** I never told her so,*' said he. ** On tke contrary, 
when she has spoken to me about it, on several occa- 
sions, I have said it was a very good thing for her 
to do." 

Miss Steiner thought she would never have a 
better chance than this to free her mind on this 
point. 

" I know you told her that,** said she. " But yott 
also told her that you never did it. And that has 
had its effect." 

" What could I do ?" he asked, testily. " Should 
I have lied to her ?" 

" No," she answered, soberly. " You should have 
said them, and then you could have told her the 
truth." 

He did not wish to get into a discussion about the 



llf wmnmam a muamu 

Medt of Ut ova fonl, and ho remained tUent sodef 
this thrust. 

** I think that a girl, as I have told you before, Mr 
Melrose," continued Miss Steiner, " should be under 
the care of conscientious Christian teachers. She 
will have temptations enough when she becomes a 
woman to require all the faith in God that she can 
imbibe.** 

" It's cant, most of it !** he exclaimed, warmly. **I 
know a lot of these church people in a business way, 
and I would not trust one of them if my back was 
turned. I have tried to have her grow up with com> 
mon sense in her head, and I think she has it. A cer* 
tain amount of religion may be good for a girl— I am 
not going to say it isn't — but I don't think it necessary 
to pour it into her by the cartload, until it is the only 
thing she knows." 

Miss Steiner listened with gratification, for he had 
at least shown a willingness to debate the subject, a 
thing he had never done before. 

"You are taking a great responsibility," she said» 
impressively. **If anything should ever go wrong 
with Rosalie, you would be alone to blame." 

He fidgeted in his chair. It was now he who had 
been made uncomfortable. 

* How am I any more responsible for her than 
you ?" 

** What is the use of trying to deceive yourself ? 
Rosalie listens to everything you tell her as to a 
god. She thinks that whatever you believe mtfst be 
right. Do you know what she is to-day, speaking 
from a religious standpoint ? She is a skeptic !** 

Miss Steiner spoke the word as if it described some 
terrible disease, the very touch of which would 



*Oii» n THAT BBUOION?" Iff 

fmison the unhappy person on whom it faltcmd 

itself. 

** I don't see why you saddle this all oflf on to me,* 
he said, as if the evil had already come to pas& 
and he was trying to evade his share of it. " You 
have had the charge of her as long as I have — much 
ionger, in fact. I have never forbidden her to read 
religious books or to hear sermons. I didn't think 
they were good for her, and I don't now, for that 
matter — but I am willing to make a partial conces- 
sion if you really think it important." 

He heard the girl coming from her school-room, 
and broke off the discussion to go to meet her. She 
hastened her steps as she saw him coming, and upon 
his invitation gladly accompanied him to his library, 

" What do you know about religion, Rosalie ?" 
he asked her, when they were seated. It appeared 
to him that a direct way was always better than cir- 
cumlocution. 

" Nothing," she answered with a surprised look. 

** You must know something about it," he replied, 
with slight impatience. " You know, of course, who 
•nade the world ?" 

Her face brightened at that. 

" Oh, is that religion ?" she asked. ** I know. It 
was God." 

" And you know that he made you also ?" said 
Stanley. 

" Did he ?" she asked, with greater interest. " No, 
Stanley, I did not know that." 

He felt that they were getting into deep water 
^nd he tried to steer the subject nearer to the shore, 

" Why, certainly," he said, with an air of wisdom. 
* God made everything." 

She accepted the statement, because it came from 



ITi VOULDING ▲ MAIDEV. 

him, and was prepared thenceforth to dcfead It 
against all comers. 

** You pray every night, do you not ?" he asked 
her next. 

** Yes, I pray to God and to Jesus. I was taught 
to do so by my German governess. Who is Jesus, 
Stanley .>- 

He began to wish that he had left this matter tm 
some one else. 

** Why, Jesus — " He paused for half a minute in 
a vain hope that something appropriate would occur 
to him, and then gave it up. 

" I have got to run down to my office,** he said, 
taking out his watch, and looking at its face abstract- 
edly. " Send your French governess here. She is a 
Protestant, I suppose ?" 

Rosalie answered, abashed at her own ignorance, 
that she did not know. The girl had no more idea 
what a Protestant was than a Hindoo would have 
had. 

She went to fin^ her, and when the woman came, 
Stanley signed to Rosalie to withdraw. 

" You are a Protestant, are you not ?" was his first 
question to the governess. 

" Oh, yes, sir I" replied the maid, quite in a flut« 
ter at the thought that he should have imagined hci 
anything else. 

** Then you know all about God, of course ?** 

** Oh, yes, sir !" came the reply, in the same tone. 

" And Jesus — you know all about him, too T* 

** Everything, sir.** 

He paused. 

** I want you to teach Miss Rosalie all about them. 
She is thirteen now, and it is time that she had some 
religious instruction. You feel quite competent, d* 



"OB, 18 TBAT BELKOSVP 17# 

3pKi V he asked, looking the Frenchwoman full to 
the face. 

" Indeed I do, sir," was her confident reply. 

" All right. It will add, say half an hour a day, t« 
your duties. I shall of course allow you extra com- 
pensation for it. How much, should you say ? It is 
better to have these things agreed on in advance." 

The woman paused to sum up mentally. 

" Would two dollars a week be too much ?" she 
asked, after making the calculation. 

" No," he replied, at once, and she was immedl' 
ately stricken with grief that she had not asked 
three. 

" Shall I tell her about Jonah, too ?" she asked, 
rising. 

** And the whale ?" he asked, proud of having 
found a theme at last that he was familiar with. 
** Well, no, not at first. It is not necessary, is it ?" 

" Not absolutely," she responded. " And what 
about the Hebrew children ?" 

She was going beyond his knowledge of Scripture 
again. 

" Let — me — see," he said, absently. " What did 
they do ?" 

"They were put in a fiery furnace, you remem- 
ber." 

** Oh, yes !" he exclaimed, though he did not 
remember at all. " No, I think I would let those 
things go until later. You — you can consult me from 
lime to time." 

** I shall need a new Bible," said the governess. 

* Certainly," he responded, handing her a five* 
dollar bill. " You can get one for that, can't you ?" 

She responded that she could, and departed t* 



liO IfOULDINQ A MAIIHEir. 

purchase one for a dollar, putting the change !• her 
pocket, like the honest girl she was. 

Stanley forgot all about his errand at his ofiSce, but 
sat there in his room until dinner was ready, amazed 
at the changes that had come in such a brief time. 

" Everything will have to be different,'* he said, 
dolefully, as the result of his long deliberations. 
" She is certainly thirteen. I never realized before 
what an unlucky number that is !" 



CHAPTER XIV, 

LYSLS COMES HOME AGAIV. 

Lysle Melrose had been away nearly five years, 
and it was nothing surprising that he wrote to his 
co-guardians that they might expect a visit from 
him at any time now. He was twenty-six and had 
made a reputation with his brush that most artists 
would envy at fifty. His work had attracted atten- 
tion all over Europe, and it was admitted by some of 
the best judges that he had certainly founded a new 
school. Lysle was not in the least affected by all 
the praise that was showered on him, though he knew 
as well as the critics that he had accomplished a great 
success. He had nothing to sell, and consequently 
cared little for the opinion of that class who distin- 
guished themselves mostly as buyers ; but it was grati 
fying to him, after all, in a certain sense, that agents 
of millionaires came often to his studio and tried 
to induce him to fmri with something he bad done, 



LTtLS COMES BOMS AOADC tH 

ke it ever so insignificant, at whatever price Im chose 
to set. 

He was still the slender, poetic-faced boy of old 
Time did not seem to have anything to do with him. 
When he was pointed out in a company of artists as 
** Melrose, the great painter," there always came tho 
astonished exclamation, " What, that lad !" He had 
gone his way, painting when he had the inspiration, 
strolling on the boulevards when he did not feel like 
work, and dining with that company of bohemians 
and bohemiennes with whose morality he had so 
little in common, exactly as he did when he first 
came to Paris, unknown and without a friend in the 
city. 

Neither of his cousins knew on what steamer he 
would arrive, and thus it happened that he reached 
the hotel during that part of the day when Stanley 
was absent at his business, and had his first interview 
with Miss Steiner. This was quite satisfactory to 
him, and he felt a curiosity to hear what she had to 
say after the long interim in which she had written 
him so little. 

He found her much older, aged far beyond what 
the lapse of years would have induced him to expect. 
Stanley, who had seen her every day, had not noticed 
what struck Lysle. She received him with a quiet 
dignity, more constrained, he thought, if anything, 
than her manner the last time he saw her. He could 
account for it now no more than then, and dismissed 
the subject with the thought that it must be due to 
physical ailments, of which he could not know and 
about which he must not inquire. 

** And where is our little ward ?" he asked, wbea 
the ordinary greetings had been exchanged and tb^ 
Wual inquiries made and answered. 



ISS MOULDING A. HAIDEK. 

•* She !s out with her governess,** was the reply- 
** I think they are making some purchases in the way 
oi clothing." 

She spoke oddly, he thought ; just as if they had 
secrets that she could only guess at, and which might 
not be at all what she imagined. 

* You surely select her clothing," he said. 

** No," she answered, despondently. " I select 
nothing. I am of no more account in her life than I 
was the last time you were here." 

He felt that this was an injustice, and wanted her 
to know that he thought so. 

** I can see no reason for this state of thingrs,** he 
said. " You have only to assert your rights to gain 
them. Stanley is a man of great wisdom, it seems to 
me, in many things, but the dressing of a girl ought 
to come naturally to you. I do not understand why 
you leave it to a governess to select her things.** 

She shook her head plaintively. 

" I have let it go too long, Lysle — I beg your par- 
don — I should have said Mr. Melrose." 

" I would much rather you called me Lysle," he 
remarked. " You can save the more formal title for 
my cousin." 

" Very well," she continued. " When I first came in 
contact with Mr. Melrose — with Mr. Stanley — I was 
suffering from a great grief and a great shock. He 
had a will stronger than mine and from the first I 
yielded to every suggestion that he made. Now I 
cannot reassert my rights. What I am most alarmed 
about is that I do not feel the necessity of doing so- 
much as I know I ought. I am in a position of a 
person who has been hypnotized." 

He smiled in spite of himself at this, for he had 



LTSLS 0OMB8 BOMS A«AIir. ItS 

kwird a good deal of mesmerism in France and eo»> 
sidered it a very silly delusion. 

** I asked you to write to me whenever you thought 
there was anything that I could do," he said, politely. 
** As you did not call on me, I supposed, naturally^ 
that everything was going on to your satisfaction." 

It was a sort of question, although not put in 
the interrogative form, and she attempted to 
answer it. 

•' There was nothing that you could do, that I 
know of. When you were last here, you seemed to 
side with him in everything." 

There was an implied accusation here that he did 
not relish. 

" In anything that was wrong, do you mean T' he 
asked, his brow darkening, 

" Oh, I mean nothing special. But it is 'not the 
best thing for Rosalie that Stanley — that any one, 
indeed — should have her so completely under his 
influence. You have not noticed it as I have. Watch 
her and you will see. If he told her that the sun 
rose in the west she would accept it against the evi- 
dence of her eyes." 

Lysle thought, as he had five years before, that the 
woman was unreasonable. 

" But does he tell her that ?" he asked, pointedly. 
" Does he not, on the contrary, tell her that it rises 
in the east, and show her how its rising and setting 
are governed ? It is not enough to accuse him of 
influencing the child — you must show that his influ- 
ence is pernicious." 

Miss Steiner's face grew longer than before. 

" Rosalie is thirteen now," she said, *' and it is time 
that her training was given to some woman of judg- 
ment You ought to see that the period when a girl 



181 llOITLDlNa ▲ MAIDSN. 

is just budding into womanhood is not the one whe* 

she should find her only confidant a man." 

She had managed to say it, though it came hard. 
She wanted to see if there was any aid for her in this 
third party to the guardianship. 

Lysle did not know what to say to this. He had a 
sensation that she was theoretically right, but he had, 
on the other hand, a very high opinion of Stanley, 
and he did not like to assume the attitude of taking 
sides between them. 

" I must repeat," he said, after a pause, " that you 
seem to me to have been derelict in permitting her 
to wander so far away from you as your words 
imply. Her father had no such thought when he 
made his will, I am sure. He meant you to retain 
the actual charge of his child, and expected Stanley 
and I to supplement your efforts, mainly in a financial 
way. When you came over here from Germany, 
Stanley was a boy of less than seventeen, Rosalie 
was five years old when he became of age. How did 
he get such a control of her, when you had such a 
long start of him ?" 

Miss Steiner bridled a little at the implication. 

" You came here th last time," she replied, " with 
an idea in your head that you were going to do some- 
thing, and ended by agreeing to everything that he 
suggested. I have done no more than that." 

" But, I must repeat, Stanley suggested only those 
things of which I could approve," he said, blushing 
slightly. "There was nothing to differ about. I 
found the child strong, healthy, intelligent, tracta- 
ble, courteous — what could I do but approve of that 
result ?" 

"And do you think, now, that she ought to bo 
under the dominating influence of Mr. Melrose, dur» 



ixnx ooMxi HoacB aqaok. 111 

ia|f the next six or seven years ?* she asked, showhi|r 
more earnestness. " Ought a gfirl to be under the 
absolute control of any man at an age when hef 
character is subject to the most critical tests ?** 

He looked at the carpet for a minute and theo 
replied that he did not know. 

" This is new business to me/* said he. ** I had 
hoped and expected that you and Stanley would 
arrange everything between you to your mutual sat- 
isfaction. If you are to clash on this point, I must 
think it over." 

It struck her that he was treating the subject 
lightly, and she hastened to tell him that she 
regarded it as a most important one. She had 
gained the courage to say so much that she thought 
she ought to finish this part of it now. 

" I have allowed him to do about as he pleased 
with ^Rosalie thus far," she said, " b«cause I could 
not absolutely say that he was wrong in any essen- 
tial detail. But the time is near at hand when I 
must act. It will avail nothing to a girl that she has 
health, beauty and intelligence if her character is not 
moulded rightly." 

** Certainly not,** he admitted. ** Character H 
everything in woman." 

** And no man, though he were a saint, can properly 
mould it," continued Miss Steiner. ** The only one 
who can do that is a person of her own sex.** 

** You want to regain the opportunities you threw 
away ?'* he said. 

" Yes," she admitted. ** I want the real guardian, 
•hip over her that her father's will, as you have 
justly said, intended I should have. Now, I cannot 
get this without your aid, and the question Is, wil! 
you g-ive it to roe?" 



lit MOVLDIKG ▲ Mi^IDBK. 

He felt that he ought not to make any promisee 
without a consultation with Stanley, and he asked 
her not to press him for an answer at that time. 

" I think there is something of reason in the posi- 
tion that you take," he said, " and I will talk to you 
later. No especial harm is being done at present, I 
suppose. I will see you again in a few days in rela- 
tion to it." 

Stanley smiled when Lysle broached the subject to 
him, the next day, as they sat in the law office of the 
attorney, on Broadway. He smiled because he had 
anticipated that the conversation would have to take 
place some time, in some form, and he had long ago 
decided to smile whenever it came. 

" I do not know what to make of Cousin Janet," he 
said, calling her for the first time in Lysle's recollec- 
tion by her Christian name. " I have consulted her 
repeatedly in relation to the smallest things about 
Rosalie — as well as the more important — and I have 
had an impression all the time that she regards me as 
an interloper, who is interfering with her private 
business. Now, according to Mr. Vandenhoff's will, 
I have certain duties to perform, and I intend to per- 
form them in a way that satisfies my ideas of right. 
I take some pride in the showing I am able to make 
regarding our ward, for she has been, it is true, very 
much under my care. Occasionally Cousin Janet has 
hinted that things were not to her liking, but when 
I have mildly asked in what respect she was dissatis- 
fied, she has always evaded the question, with one 
exception. Very recently she spoke about the slight 
knowledge of religious things that Rosalie had, and 
I gave instructions at once that she should have an 
hour a day devoted to that department of her educa- 
tkm. It is the only time she has been definite in kef 



UtLB 00108 ROMB AQAOU WH 

vequests, and I did not lose a minute in acceding to 
her desires. And now she has evidently been com- 
plaining to you." 

Stanley smiled again as he finished his statement, 
the same preconcerted smile as before. 

** I should not call it a complaint," said Lysle, 
aflfably. " I asked her whether everything was going 
to her liking, and she spoke of the fact that Rosalie 
had become thirteen years of age, and asked me if 
such a girl ought not to be more under the care of a 
person of her own sex. That was about all there 
was to it." 

Stanley smiled his third smile, but there was a look 
of discouragement mixed with it, that was intended 
to gain sympathy. 

* It is rather hard to know how to take such a sug- 
gestion," he said, " when one looks at the facts in this 
case. With the exception of perhaps three hours a 
day — very seldom more, often less — Rosalie Is 
entirely under the care and in the society of women. 
I take a short walk with her early in the morning, 
believing it beneficial both for her and myself. 
Sometimes she comes to my library and I talk to her 
of her studies for a little while after lunch. At night, 
when dinner is over, we usually stroll up to the Park 
and back. That is all. They have her all the rest 
of the time. Now, if I have not a right to that much 
of her I should like some one to tell me why." 

He seemed to have made out his case, as he alwajTS 
did, and Lysle saw no flaw in it, on the surface at 
least. 

" Her idea is, as I gather it," said he, " that the 
child has become so attached to you — has, I might 
say, acquired such faith in you — that she is 
influenced by your slightest word more than by the 



lit MDULDma ▲ MAIOBB. 

labored arguments of any one else. And the 
aot think that a young girl— a growing girl, of her 
age — should be under that sort of influence from any 
person of the opposite sex, even though, to use her 
own words, he were a saint." 

Stanley could not help a feeling of gratification at 
this statement of the attitude of Rosalie's mind, 
which he fully believed to be the true one. But it 
would not do to show this too strongly. 

" If I have gained her confidence I may hope that 
I have deserved it," he said. " Children are famous 
judges of their elders. Not to appear egotistical, I 
will say that little people are not apt to bestow con- 
fidence in the wrong quarter. But there shall be no 
serious difference between Miss Steiner and me if I 
can prevent it. I shall be quite willing to leave the 
matter to you, my dear Lysle, to decide, if she is 
content with that. I shall not consent to any unrea 
sonable abridgment of my rights, nor to anything 
that will injure the growing mind of my ward, and I 
know that you would propose none. We shall have 
to agree among ourselves, or else we must go to the 
surrogate and let him decide for us." 

The fourth smile followed this suggestion, and 
Lysle sapplemented it this time with one of his 



"OOOD-Jm^ UTILX WOMAir* lit 



CHAPTER XV. 

** GOOD-BYE, LITTLE WOMAX." 

That evening, while on his walk with Rosalie, Stan-^ 
ley had a talk with her in relation to the matter that 
had formed the basis of his conversation with Lyslc, 
above outlined. He had become quite used to her 
longer skirts, and while she was and always would 
be a changed girl to him, they still had their confi< 
dences. In fact, the feeling that she was older and 
more capable of forming judgments made him dis- 
cuss many things with her that he would not have 
thought of doing a few months previously. 

" Did you know that I was thinking of taking a 
short trip to Europe ?" he asked, suddenly. 

" To Europe ?" she repeated, startled. " How long 
shall you be away ?" 

" Not more than two months. I have some busi- 
ness there that I ought to see to in person, and I 
think of going very soon." 

She was so much overcome at the novel idea that 
he could go anywhere away from her for two months 
that she did not know how to reply. The longest 
time she had ever been from him was two weeks, and 
that seemed an age. 

'* You do not say anything," he said, presently. 

" I do not know what to say," she answered, in a 
depressed tone. " I cannot think of it well enough 
to form any sentences. I suppose you would not let 
me go with you, or you would have said so aa tbm 
irst place." 



liO "UOVIXUNQ A MAIDEN. 

He saw that she was much affected, and that it waf 
with difficulty that she subdued her emotion. 

** / would let you go fast enough," he said, think> 
ing it a good time to score a point, *' if I could do 
exactly as I pleased about it. But there are Miss 
Steiner and Lysle. They would think it very <^ool» 
ish, I am sure." 

" Why ?" she asked, looking up. A ray of hope 
had come into her heart with the suggestion. " Miss 
Steiner has always said I should travel some day. 
This would be a good time to make a beginning." 

*' Perhaps she might not be ready to go at pres* 
ent," said he. ** I must start very soon if I am to 
go this year." 

She thought that a queer point to raise. 

*' Why, Stanley, there is no need of Aer going." 

" And as for Lysle," he went on, as if he had not 
understood her, ** he has only just come from there, 
and will certainly not care to return so soon." 

She did not comprehend this point any better than 
the other. 

*' I don't see," she said, with a puzzled air, ** why 
we need either of them. I am big enough to take 
every care of myself, with you to guide me. What 
use would a lot of other people be to us ?" 

It gave him a thrill of delight to know that she 
felt this way — that she was willing to put herself in 
his hands, to cross the sea with him — and it angered 
him to remember that he was tied by such bonds to 
inferior people who could control his actions and hers 
on a thing like this. 

*' Your father," he said, speaking with great delib- 
eration, " left a will in which he an-anged that three 
of us should have charge of you. One cannot do as 
Im pleases if the others object." 



" giOOD-BTJt, UTTLM irOUAX," Ifl 

She had heard of the will before and of her three 
guardians and their powers, but never till this 
moment had Stanley used the word "father" to her. 
It set her to thinking very deeply. She had often 
wanted to hear more about that relation, and now 
the first time that Stanley alluded to him it was to 
show that his most important act had been an 
unpleasant one in his consequences to her. 

" Tell me about my father, Stanley," she said. 

" I know very little of him. When I was a small 
boy he came to our house, but I have no clear 
impression of him. Miss Steiner says he was tall and 
quite large, and I have an idea that he was inclined 
to a blond cast," 

She listened with bowed head and waited some 
time before she put the next query. 

" And my — my mother ?" 

" I know nothing about her whatever. He married 
abroad and they both died there. At least, that is 
what I understand," he added, with the cautiousness 
of his profession. 

*' They are buried in Europe ?" 

" Yes, at Heidelberg." 

They walked several blocks before either of them 
spoke again. 

" Why do people die, Stanley ?" she asked, at last. 
** I mean people w^ho are not old. I used to think 
how wise it was that they grew old and ugly, for 
that must make them quite willing io die. But 
when they are young, as my parents were, what is it 
that makes them die then ?" 

He told her that there were various diseases that 
were apt to prove fatal, and reminded her of several 
persons whom she had known who had sttocumbed 
to illnesses. 



193 HouLDiNo A 3f Amur. 

* Yes, I know they do die," she replied, * but I do 
aot understand why. Was it intended by God, when 
he made the earth, that people should die before 
they are old ? It seems dreadful for the young to 
die. I — I should not like to die, Stanley." 

He had never seen her look so sad as when she 
uttered these words, and it moved him deeply. 

*' We must all take care of our health in the best 
way we can," he replied. " You have never known 
what sickness is, and I ascribe it much to the exer- 
cise you have taken, and the efforts to give your 
lungs plenty of fresh air." 

She looked at him gratefully. 

" You did that," she said. " You always took mc 
out of doors, did you not, and saw that the windows 
of my sleeping room were open at the top ? Why 
did you take such pains with me ?" 

" It was my duty," he responded. " You were left 
to some extent in my charge, and I had to think of 
these things." 

"But," she said, thoughtfully, "there were Lysle 
and Miss Steiner. I do not believe either of them 
would have done half as much." 

" Lysle has been away," said he, ** and Miss 
Steiner is a — a woman." 

She was quick to notice the disparaging manner 
In which he alluded to the sex of her feminine 
guardian. 

" You do not have a high opinion of women, Stan- 
ley," she replied. " I have noticed it often — and yet 
— I shall be a woman some day." 

He tried to explain that there was a differencfe m 
women, and went as far as he thought advisable into 
his theories on that subject. He showed her why 
the methods pursued in the dress and education <^ 



* COOIVBTB, LZTTLK WOMAX.* Iff 

nodetn women had made them the inferiors of raea. 
He dwelt on the general helplessness and weaiknets^ 
both physical and mental, of many of her sex, and, 
related briefly the things he had done in Rosalie's 
infancy to rescue her from their condition. And with 
every word that he spoke she grew more and more 
grateful. 

" I did not mean to say anything against Miss 
Steiner, in particular," he explained. " She would 
probably have done with you what ninety-nine in a 
hundred other women would under the same cir- 
cumstances — kept you in such leading-strings that 
you would have had to have a servant at your heels 
every minute of your life. It is considered the right 
way to bring up girls, by a great many excellent 
people, and I have laid myself open to criticism for 
the departures that 1 have dared to make." 

She inhaled a long breath of the pure air that rose 
from the earth. 

** I am so glad that you did it !" she said, earnestly. 
** I shall live much longer on account of it, shall I 
not? I should almost crave death if I had to stay 
tied up in the house every time the weather is a little 
cold or damp, like so many ladies who are at the 
hotel. They often say to me that I am reckless to 
venture out when it is not warm and sunny. I tell 
them the only danger is in venturing in. The air 
out of doors always seems better to me than that in 
the rooms." 

Her rosy cheeks and bright eyes told her story as 
eloquently as her language, and he enjoyed the testi- 
mony of all of them. 

"And now, about this European trip of mine," he 
said, and a cloud came, in spite of all her efforts, 
across the happy face of a moment before. " I must 



UOULMNft ▲ MAIDSM. 

go^ ana you cannot go with me. That I regard aft 
settled. But there is a great deal more that yoa 
will have to think of. You are growing older every 
day. Your other guardians — Miss Steiner and Lysle 
— both think that you are too old now to be with me 
as much as you have been. And when I come home 
we shall have to turn over a new leaf." 

She had not the least idea what he meant, but she 
saw that it presaged a more complete separation for 
them, and it gave her poignant distress. 

** Is it any — any fault of mine ?" she managed to 
articulate. 

" No. Nor of mine, either. I am a man, and you, 
until very lately, have been a child. We have acted 
together like two boys, for, though vested with 
authority, I have seldom used it over you. We have 
been comrades. But now you are going to be & 
woman, and women and men are not comrades." 

It was a lame explanation, and it is no wonder 
that she did not understand it very well. She knew 
that Stanley had not told her this without givingthe 
matter full thought, however, and that she would 
have to accept it as final. He was going away for 
a time, and upon his return he and she were to be no 
more the close friends they had been ever since she 
could remember. She understood that, and it was 
enough to lower her spirits perceptibly. 

" I do net want to be a woman," she said, presently^ 
in a low tc ne, " if it is to take me away from you.** 

*' Why, My little girl," he answered, with an assump* 
tion of gayety, " you are almost crying. I hava 
taught you never to let any sorrow or disappointment 
affect you, when you know it cannot be helped. Havt 
you forgotten all yoor instructions ^' 



**aocM)-BTK, urrus woman.* Ifi 

•Ah, but I never had a sorrow Mke thtst*' shft 

replied, with feeling. 

He tried to answer her, but there rose in his throat 
a choking that made utterance too difficult, and they 
finished their walk in silence. 

When he told Miss Steiner that he had business 
that would call him to London, and that he might 
be gone several months, he was exasperated to see 
the pleasure that she was unable to conceal. He had 
long felt that there was a mystery about the Van- 
denhoffs that he ought to try to probe, and he could 
not resist throwing out a grappling-hook at that 
moment to see whether it would fasten to anything. 

" I shall probably run over to Germany, also," he 
said, watching her narrowly. " Is there any errand 
I can do for you at Heidelberg ?" 

The ghostly hue that her face assumed would have 
induced suspicion in a less astute mind than that of 
the shrewd lawyer. 

'* Heidelberg !" she repeated. " What can you 
have to do there ?" 

" I think there may be a good deal," he responded, 
meaningly. ** If you have any suggestions to make 
about my visit to that place I should like to hear 
them." 

If white can grow whiter yet, her pale face paled 
as he spoke. 

"Suggestions!" she said. "/./" 

What was it, he wondered, that made the very 
name of Heidelberg frighten her like this ? He had 
marked its effect before. As a lawyer he knew but 
one thing that could put that look on a face — Crime. 
But in this instance, what kind of crime ? 

"You know best what, if anything, yoa have to 
tell me," he said. " I am going in a very few days 



IM MOULDING A MAIDBX. 

If there Is any time between now and then that yov 
wish to see me, I shall always be at your disposal. I 
shall, of course, have to leave Rosalie with you and 
Lysle. I have never been long away from her, and 
I hope you will take every care of her during my 
absence." 

She struggled with her words for some time before 
she could utter them, 

" Do you doubt that my interest in her is as great 
as yours ?" 

" It may be greater. I only wished to remind you 
of your responsibility." 

She tried again to answer hitn, but her emotions, 
whatever their cause, were too strong, and after a 
moment longer he took his leave, much puzzled. 

Lysle congratulated Stanley warmly on his pro- 
posed trip, and said he was only sorry it could not 
be taken at a time when he could accompany him. 

" You must visit Paris," he said, " if it is only for 
a few days, just to see the best kept city in the world 
and come home forever disgusted with the streets of 
your own New York. I will give you letters to 
friends there, and a note to the concierge of my 
hotel, who will admit you to my studio, where you 
can see what I have been wasting my time on for the 
past four years. My chef cT ceuvre is there — the one I 
made from that model that Arthur Peck took away, 
and which you were so kind as to get back for me. 
Then there are three or four studies of Rosalie, that 
I finished up after I returned the last time. I kept 
the detail to finish at my leisure, you know, and I 
think the complete pictures are worth seeing. Stay 
as long as you like ; we will take good care of the 
little one." 

Rosalie had said so much to him that Stanley felt 



•fiOOD-BTB, LITTLl VTOMAK.* 19T 

mo more the old jealousy of Lysle that he had onat 
dreaded. On the other hand, he had acquired a new 
doubt in relation to Miss Steiner, amounting to almost 
a dislike that his ward should be much in her oom< 
pany. 

" You do not intend to go anywhere away from 
New York ?" he asked Lysle. 

« Oh, no." 

" I am glad of that. I wish you would be with 
Rosalie all you can. She is used to long walks with 
me, and she will miss them, unless you consent to 
take my place. Cousin Janet could never do it, and 
the others have their hands full now.** 

Lysle smiled. 

" I do not think that our young lady is very fond 
of me," he said. ** She may prefer to choose her own 
company." 

Stanley thought it a good time to make an impres- 
sion. 

" You are her guardian," said he. " You have only 
to direct her, and my word for it, she will obey you. 
She has not been brought up to argue over a com* 
mand." 

Lysle looked quite startled at this proposition. 

" I shall not go as far as that," he said. " Yoa 
had better speak to her about it, so that we can have 
it fully understood before you go." 

** Very well," was the reply. " And there are other 
things that I wish you would keep your eye on. 
Don't let them fill her head with nonsense.'* 

" Of what kind ?" 

" Of any kind. Keep an oversight of her studies. 
They have begun to teach her religion, and I know 
by what she says to me that they are telling hcf 
some queer things. I am net sure that religion is 



ICOnLDIKLG A MAZPI^. 

good for her, any way. I yielded to Janet witbovt 
due thought, I fear. You seemed to side with her. 
Now is a good time to see that they do not make it 
too strong for a mind like Rosalie's. In short, you 
must act the part that belongs to you, as the only 
guardian left here — of the masculine persuasion.*' 

The young artist had no idea what might be 
included in those duties, but he wanted to set his 
cousin's mind at ease, before he departed on his voy- 
age, and he said to himself that Miss Steiner would 
be able to explain it to him, if there was anything of 
which he found himself ignorant. So he consented 
to all that was suggested, and Stanley seemed much 
pleased. 

The voyager was to go aboard of his steamer at 
midnight, and he had to say good-bye to Rosalie 
when she returned with him from their last evening 
walk. He wondered whether there was not some- 
thing beyond the usual words that he ought to 
indulge in, but he could not think of anything that 
seemed appropriate. He knew that the child's heart 
was full of grief, and he feared lest he should say 
something to make it overflow at the eyelids. 

"Good-bye, little woman," he said. " I sail in the 
morning before you rise. You are to write to me 
very often, remember, and not to forget me while I 
am away." 

" Good-bye," she replied, and turned toward the 
door. 

"You might at least shake hands with me," he 
said, in a faint effort to be jocose. 

" No," she replied, without turning her head, and 
her voice trembled. " I cannot — I cannot, indeed,** 

He thought for a second that he ought to call after 
Imt and bid her, with the authority that he possMsed, 



wt j» vnmntMEvr wm ▲ mbx.. 1M 

-■• cbej him. Then he found thftt he was stand* 

ing there alone, and shivering, and he went to Mis» 
Steiner's parlor, just to say that he was going directly 
.to his boat. He saw no need of waiting longer oa 
shore. 

" You are going to — to Heidelberg," she said, her 
face as pale as he had noticed it before. " If you find 
things there that you do not understand, do not act 
precipitously. You may put a wrong construction 
on what you discover. But you will be better off — 
we shall all be better off — if you keep away from 
there." 

** I shall go/' was his only answer. 



CHAPTER XVL 

IT IS DIFFERENT WITH A GIRL. 

None of the sentiments that had affected Stanley 
Melrose because of the increasing age of his ward, 
had any influence upon Lysle. She was still to him 
a child, and a year more or less in her age, or an inch 
more or less in the length of her garments did not 
signify in the least. He knew that she was not an 
ordinary child. He realized that she could not be 
treated as other children of her age could be. He 
also knew that, although she had seen but thirteen 
years, she had a body and mind fit for a much older 
girl. But she was only thirteen, after all, and he did 
not consider a girl of that age a very important per- 
sonage. 

Lysle thought ft would be a rather interestin|r 



MOVLDiro ▲ MAIDEN. 

tlliaif to take Stanley's plaoe, as her companion, at 
he had been asked to do for the little time he was to 
be away. Stanley had spoken to her about it, and 
had reported to him that she fully understood the 
part he was to play. On the very first evening after 
his cousin sailed — he omitted it in the morning quite 
from forgetfulness — he came to her at the close of 
dinner and asked whether she were ready for her 
usual walk. When she rose obediently, and went to 
get her cloak and hat, he had a sense of proprietor- 
ship that was novel and not by any means displeas- 
ing. 

"Where have you been in the habit of walking ?" 
he asked, as they gained the sidewalk. 

•* Wherever Stanley pleased," was her quiet 
answer. 

** Have you any choice ?*' 

* No." 

He had hoped she had, as it would relieve him of 
making the selection, but as she had no preference, 
he thought it a good plan to stroll down town, where 
the crush of all-day travel had given way to the 
peace and quietness that comes at dark to the busi- 
ness quarter. 

" I suppose Stanley is out of sight of land/' he 
began, not knowing anything of more interest to 
talk about. " If he is sitting on the deck at this 
moment he can probably discern nothing but the 
vast blue sea. And it will be eight days before the 
prospect changes. How would you like to go to 
sea, Rosalie ?'* 

She started from the reverie into which she had 
already fallen, to say that she thought she should 
like it very much. She was thinking, when he spoke, 
haw much rather she would be on the ocean with 



ft » DIFFXBBNT WIVS A QWL, 90t 

llaaky than on the shore with any one else In tht 
world. 

** You will have opportunity, by-and-by," he said. 
* It is part of your guardians' plan that you should 
see Europe within a few years. You will enjoy it 
greatly, I have no doubt. Then, if I am in Paris 
you will visit me, and you will also go to see your 
old home, your birthplace, in Heidelberg." 

This set her to thinking again of her parents. 

** Did you ever see my father, Lysle ?" 

** Not that I remember." 

** Nor my mother ?" 

"No. Miss Steiner can tell you all about her. 
They were companions for a long time, I under* 
stand." 

" There is something strange about that," mused 
the girl. " I have asked Miss Steiner about my 
mother, and she seems to avoid the subject. Stanley 
has asked her, too, and he gets no better satisfaction. 
He is going to Heidelberg before he returns, and 
find out all he can for me. He says it is mysterious 
that there should be n«t a single picture of either of 
my parents." 

Lysle admitted that it was strange, and said, if 
there were photographs, as very likely there were, 
duplicates could be obtained, if the name of the 
photographer could be learned. 

She seemed much more at ease with him, and 
more confidential than he had anticipated, and he 
was glad to note this. They were soon talking as 
unconstrainedly as if they had taken these walks 
together all their lives. 

** It wifi be a long time before we get the firsl 
letter," she said, a few minutes later. 

•* Yes. Nearly three weeks," 



S09 MOULDCHO A MMJOBS, 

"He said we ought to get it in a Uttla over tw^o,* 
she answered. 

" Between two and three.** 

*' And, in all that time, \ve could not know, if his 
ship went to the bottom of the ocean ?** 

The question revealed how deeply her thoughts 
were fixed on the absent one. 

* Ocean steamers very rarely sink," he replied. **I 
consider him just as safe there as we are on land." 

She was silent after that for a little while, and 
then she astonished him by asking, suddenly : 

** Lysle, what do you think about God ?" 

"They say," she continued, before he could decide 
what to reply, " that he is very good. They say 
that he loves us, and is like a father to us. Do you 
believe a father — a kind father — would take away 
the ones we like best, and then think we ought to be 
grateful to him for doing it V 

" I am afraid I cannot give you much information 
on that subject," he replied, smiling. " Religion is 
a thing that I have never thought about." 

She looked very wise. 

"I am studying it now, every day, for half an hour. 
I have read the whole of the New Testament, and 
am to beg^n on the Old very soon. I do not under- 
stand all I read, but Lisa says that it is not necessary 
•—that nobody does. It seems to me strange that 
such an important study, as they say it is, should 
not have some one who can master it. I did not 
know anything about God till this year. And now 
I think about him more than anything else, and the 
more I think of the things he does, the harder it is 
for me understand him." 

Ue felt so inadequate to gaide her steps in this 



If IB ISFFBBBNT WITH A OOHU 9DS 

jiattcr that he could do little more than to keep 

«lent, or to reply in monosyllables. 

** In the first place, every baby needs a father and 
a mother, do they not ? When I was a baby, God 
took them both, and left me to Miss Steiner, and to 
you, and Stanley. You are all very good, but why 
should you take the place that a real father and 
mother take with other children ? And my parents, 
too, they did not want to die ; they were both 
young. I have felt so sorry for them lately, since 
I have beg^n to think of these things ! Oh, Lysle, 
it must be terrible to die when one is young !" 

She could ask him more questions than he could 
answer, but he replied to this by admitting that it 
did seem hard. 

" What do you suppose Lisa says about that ?** she 
went on. " She says that God sees better than we, 
and that, although it may seem hard to us, he knows 
that it is best. That set me to thinking, to-day, 
that God might consider it best to sink the ship 
that Stanley is in, and never let it reach the port 
of Liverpool. It has nothing to do with the 
strength of the ship, you see, nor the quietness of 
the waves ; it is only just whatever he pleases. Lisa 
tells me to love God — but I am waiting to see. If 
he should not let Stanley get safe to shore, I never 
could love him — no, never J" 

He began to think that Stanley was right in his 
notion that too much religion might not do this 
young head any good, and he resolved to speak to 
her governess about it the very next day. 

" I don't think God likes me, anyway,'' continued 
the child, " for if he had he would have left me my 
father and mother. And I shall never be easy till 
we hear Irom Stanley," 



9ffk HouLDnro a maiden. 

~CRl, we shall m*r from him within eight or niac 
days,** he replied, cheerily. " The ocean cable will 
tell us when his steamer arrives in sight of the Irish 
coast, and probably he will send a dispatch, himself 
from Queenstown.*' 

Her eyes opened wide. 

**A dispatch? I do not understand. Can he 
telegraph across the sea just the same as we can on 
the land ?'* 

The ocean cable was one of the things that Rosalie 
had never heard of, she not being a reader of the 
daily papers, and the idea that she had just imbibed 
was a very novel one to her. 

** But he did not say anything about telegraph- 
ing," she said, when he had explained to her the 
workings of the submarine wires. " He only spoke 
of writing." 

" That is because the idea of his safety being in 
QviUbi never entered his mind. People think no 
more now of taking an ocean steamer than they do 
of going a hundred miles on a railway. You will 
not have to reserve your faith in God as long as 
you thought,** he added, smiling. ** In eight or nine 
days you will be able to tell whether he deserves 
your confidence or not." 

She grew much brighter at the unexpected news. 

** If he carries Stanley safely," she said with earn- 
estness, *' I shall love him very dearly.** 

"And if he does not — " 

•* I do not see how he could expect it,*' she replied, 
soberly. 

The next morning Lysle talked with Miss Steiner 
for some time, in relation to this conversation, 
urging at the close that Rosalie woutd be better o4 
with fewer of these ** dismal ideas" thrust upon her at 



n M DIFFXBSBT WITH A Oltti 90ft 

kcr age. Miss Steioer replied, however, Utat the 
•nly trouble was, to her mind, that the lessons came 
too late. Rosalie should have been taught these 
things years before, she said, when she would have 
imbibed them naturally, and not have been in the 
position to meet each truth she heard with the 
skepticism of her growing mind. 

" She is nothing but a little heathen," she sa!d> 
** as far as religious knowledge is concerned." 

"She knows much more already than I," he 
replied, with a laugh. " I have never been bored 
with that sort of thing, and I have never been the 
worse, I think." 

** Ah, but it is different with a girl,** said Miss 
Steiner. " They must have it. Yes," she paused, 
and drew a long breath, " it is absolutely necessary 
for a girl to be taught religion. I beg you, do not 
interfere with Rosalie's education in this respect. 
It is a serious responsibility, the bringing up of a 
young girl, and religious training is of the first 
importance." 

He did not like to argue the main question with 
her, as she seemed set upon it, but he suggested 
that it was doubtful whether Lisa was exactly the 
person to impart the wisest ideas in relation to the 
matter. He believed, and so expressed himself, that 
Miss Steiner ought to take that branch under her 
own supervision. 

She smiled sadly at the proposal. 

** I think that Rosalie has even less confidence in 
my judgment than she has in Lisa's," she replied. 
** Stanley has done it all. She has seen with his 
eyes so many years that she has none of her owa 
now." 

Always so harsh when Stanley was the subject at 



ICOtTLDZSO ▲ XAIDBX. 

issue ! Lyslc wondered why she oould never 
cile herself to his cousin's methods, which seemed 
to him, on the whole, to have turned out admirably. 
He felt himself unable to regulate this matter of 
religious teaching, however, and let it drop for the 
present. The newspaper that he took to Rosalie, at 
the end of a week, to show her that Stanley's 
fteamer had been sighted off Fastnet, was of more 
importance to him, and apparently to hen She had 
been quite pensive during the few preceding days, 
and her joy at knowing there was nothing to be 
feared from the storms of the sea was most manifest. 
She seemed to feel as if Lysle had something to do 
with the good news he had brought, and from 
that time they were better friends than they 
had ever been, or at one time ever promised to 
be. 

Lysle did not like walking as well as Stanley did, 
but he was quite fond of driving, and soon he 
exchanged the after-dinner stroll for a Park drive 
before that meal. The season was early winter, and 
the weather was not always of the best, but unless it 
was actually raining they went out together between 
four and six every day. During these hours they 
grew very confidential, talking on the greatest 
variety of things. Rosalie found her circle of 
knowledge widening with her new association. 
Stanley had talked to her, almost to the last as to a 
child. Lysle talked of that great world from which 
she had been so thoroughly shut out. He gave her 
glimpses of life in Italy and in France, told her of the 
odd things to be seen in Holland, where he had once 
spent a vacation, and entertained her with accounts 
of the days when he climbed the Alps and the 
Fyranees. And she, in her turn, told him ot a!i ste 



tt IS ntFFBBBarr wife a. onou KIT 

•ooM remember about her eaiiy experiences among 
the Indians, where she had learned to ride horse- 
back, to swim, and to shoot with the bow-and-arrow. 
She told him of the trips she had made with Stanley 
•—and Miss Steiner — into the northern part of the 
State, and about the great hawk she had shot with 
her rifie, after half the farmers in the neighborhood 
had sought to dispatch it in vain. In all of her 
stories the burden was what Stanley had said, and 
how Stanley had advised this or that. Indeed, it 
was to talk of Stanley that she liked most to ride 
with Lysle. 

One of the last things that Stanley had 
done had been to give her the key to his library. 
Some of the things that Rosalie read there, even 
with no one to explain the parts that she could not 
comprehend, influenced the current of her thoughts 
to a marked degree. She read stories of roman* 
tic love, something she had never heard or dreamed 
of, and her young mind dwelt long on the strange 
revelation of that hitherto unknown land. She 
learned for the first time that men came to theit 
lady-loves with downcast eyes and trembling lips, 
and sometimes begged the honor of their hands 
with knees bent in the dust. She learned that 
women could be coquettes, that they could pretend 
to love when they did not. She learned that vows 
made in all sacredness could be broken when a 
fairer face or manlier form — or worse still, a longer* 
purse— could be gained by it. 

How many questions she wanted to ask, as she 
read • But she knew she would get no satisfaction 
from Lisa ; she never thought of going to Miss 
Steiner ; and it was not the kind of information stw 
thought she ought to get from Lysle 



9M WEHttJOan A HAlOBi. 

One day when they were riding, they met a hand* 

iomely dressed couple, who were newly wedded. 
Lysle, quite thoughtlessly, called her attention to 
them, as one of the sights of the drive, and she made 
it the basis of several queries which had long been 
puzzling her. 

'* I do not think I ever saw a bride before, Lysle,** 
she said. " Do they always dress like that V* 

" They generally have a distinctive dress, I believe. 
To tell the truth, though, I hardly know what the 
American custom is. In Paris I have seen the 
bridal parties often, driving out in the suburbs to 
some restaurant for dinner, and the bride and groom 
could easily be distinguished by the gayety of their 
attire/* 

Rosalie pondered for some time. 

" I think it is a good thing to be married, Lyste.** 

** Indeed !** he said, somewhat astonished. 

** When one is young, it is all right to be single,** 
she went on, musingly, " but when one grows old 
it does not seem as if he were meant to live alone.** 

" Then I suppose you intend to marry ?** he said, 
inclined to find amusement in listening to such a 
weighty argument from her lips. 

" Tes," she replied, positively, 

" You have no one picked out yet, I suppose ?** 

She had to smile a little at this witticism. 

" Of course not. I shall wait till I am past youth. 
While I am still young there will be no need of 
marriage." 

" A nice plan you are making !** he cried. " Does 
it not occur to you that when you have passed your 
prime and get all ready for the marriage state, no 
•ne may propose to you ?" 

She looke'^ up with a funny expression. 



n IB ZMIVKBBNT WITH ▲ OIBk 309 

' Why, L3rsle» I never thought of that !*• 
"You will have to take your pick of your 
admirers," he said, " while you are young and band* 

some." 

Lysle was talking merely for amusement, to hear 
what this child would say, but it all had a basis of 
seriousness to her. 

" I shall never be handsome,** she said, very slowly. 
" I shall be strong and well, but never handsome; 
I do not like women who are handsome, Lysle.** 

He gazed for a moment at the clear, bright face, 
and thought there were few girls in New York or 
elsewhere more likely to make a very handsome 
woman than she. But he did not think it wise to 
tell that to her. 

" And men ?'* he asked. ** Do you object to men 
who are handsome, too ?** 

" I think I should," she answered. " I like to fee 
a man tall, and powerful, and able to manage other 
men, but I would not care for him if he were hand* 
some," 

He recognized part of her description, and sug- 
gested : 

" Something like Stanley would suit you.** 

"Yes," she said, thoughtfully. "Something like 
Stanley." 

It did not occur to him to be jealous. Stanley 
would have taken immediate offence had the cas« 
been reversed, but there was a great difference 
between the cousins in that, as in everything else. 

Rosalie had begun to consider Lysle a very pleas- 
ant fellow. She wondered, in thinking about him to 
herself, how it was that she had disliked him so 
long. 

He was not like Stanley — no one, she thou^t. 



could be that — but he was a rery fair substituU, 
considering. 

Wlien they reached home she wrote a letter to 
Stanley, the regular semi-weekly epistle that he had 
learned to expect, and she read over for the twentieth 
time the last one she had received from him. 

Soon, soon, now, he would be back again ! 



CHAPTER XVIL 

STANLEY AT HEIDELBERG. 

Mr. Stanley Melrose had become quite a figure on 
••the street." His fame as a lawyer who got ver« 
diets for his clients was eclipsed by his reputation as 
a shrewd manipulator of securities. His especial 
mission to Europe was the placing of the bonds of a 
railroad in which he had a large interest. I have 
always noticed that whenever our American finan- 
ciers find a lull in their usually active home business, 
they always run over to Europe and " place bonds." 
Mr. Melrose's railroad did not run anywhere in par- 
ticular, and its entire rolling stock and locations 
were locked up each night in his large safe, but he 
Intended to " place " the bonds, just the same. In 
which respect he did not differ from the presidents 
of many other railroads, having the same termini 
and equipment, who have " placed " the bonds of 
their corporations in the European market, year after 
year, in an attempt to fill a demand that is never 
apparently satisfied. 

There were now old fogies who had begun to U)6k 



WIAJKVar AT BaDmLBBMk tit 

askance at Melrose and his methods. There were 
directors in solid corporations who would not even 
examine any scheme that had his name attached to 
it. The rising Napoleons of finance always meet 
with such men, but they can afford to ignore such 
jealous opposition, when all the rest of the financial 
world bows in adoration at their feet. The style of 
doing business to-day is different from that of the 
period when the aforesaid fogies were in their prime. 
The needs of a great and growing country — and of a 
great and growing crowd of speculators — will not 
permit of anything slow in the manipulation of the 
market. Melrose had his admirers, numbered by the 
hundred, and his name had become a synonym for 
bold operations. When he started for Europe to 
*' place " the bonds of the Tallahassee & Lake Supc» 
rior Railroad, those bonds were as good as placed, 
and the whole financial world was forced to admit 
it. The stock, which had been sagging off, took a 
sudden start, and his agents who were left at home, 
unloaded on the guileless public all they dared of 
the last batch received from the printer. 

It was the old story without a single variation. 

Having ** placed " his bonds, dined with a number 
of London capitalists, and seen the principal wonders 
of the metropolis of the world, Stanley, like every 
other American who has preceded or followed him to 
England, crossed the Channel. He made no pause 
between the shore and Paris, where he was received 
almost as soon as he arrived, by his old acquaintance 
Arthur Peck, who had tendered him the hospitalities 
of the city. Arthur had continued to alternate 
between New York and Paris, ever since he was first 
introduced to the reader. He went home only when 
tlK denmfids of his father become too urgent to 



^S MooLnnra ▲ uaibvs, 

rtsitt, and returned as soon as his business engage< 
ments would permit The elder Peck had made 
quite a large fortune in electrical lines, and Mr. Mel- 
rose had assisted him in '* placing " some of his bonds, 
in which he had acquired an interest, along with those 
of the T. & L. S. R. R. Arthur was supposed to be 
at present in Europe for the purpose of making the 
npjrk of Mr, Melrose easier to accomplish, and he 
found the vacation from his father's office a very 
delightful one. 

Young Peck did not take Mr. Melrose to his little 
apartment in the Rue Marbeuf. Neither did he 
escort him, when the shades of evening fell, to the 
Mabille, or to any of its numerous imitators. He 
wanted for many reasons to keep on the right side of 
this light of the financial world, and he had no idea 
that his good graces could be kept or gained by fol- 
lowing such a course. He had, therefore, taken rooms 
at the Grand Hotel, some days before his arrival, and 
limited the excursions that they were to make 
togetner, to the round usual with tourists who place 
themselves under the guidance of Mr. Cook. 

Melrose was duly impressed — as what American is 
not ? — with the beauty and cleanliness of the city, 
but thought that a little Yankee "go" might be 
infused into some of its departments to advantage. 

"One of the things I must not forget to do is to 
take a look at Lysle's studio," he said to his friend, 
one morning. " He has given me a letter to the con- 
cierge, as he calls her, and the keys of his rooms. 
Would you like to go with me ? I think we shall 
find some very good paintings there.*' 

The concierge read the note that Lysle had sent, 
and hesitated for a few moments before she granted 
the gentlemen permission to aacend the itaira. It 



STAmJSY AT HEIDBLBSBQ. 213 

was an unprecedented thing for her lodger to 

send any one there, and a Parisian concierge does 
not look with favor upon the extraordinary. Peck 
smiled as she looked up at him, and addressing her 
in French, explained that M. Melrose was a first 
cousin of Monsieur Lysle, and almost the same to 
him as a brother. The woman then read the letter 
again, and after receiving a five-franc piece from 
Peck, announced that everything seemed to be alt 
right and that she would show them at once to the 
room they wanted. 

" You will find things rather dusty," she said, as 
she halted before the door. " It was the command 
of monsieur when he went away that we should not 
attempt to sweep or touch the place in his absence. 
He is very particular, and even when he is here he dons 
an old suit and persists in remaining about when the 
cleaning is going on. Oh, the monsieur americain is 
very set about that. He must have the room dusted 
exactly as he wishes. For the past year, only 
Clothilde has entered it for this purpose." 

Peck started at the name ** Clothilde," for he 
knew she had once been Lysle's model. 

Mr. Melrose took the keys, opened the door and 
entered, while Peck stayed a moment longer at the 
door to converse with the concierge, whom he had all 
at once found vastly entertaining. 

"Is Mile. Clothilde still with you ?** he inquired. 

** Mais, non," replied the woman, with a shrug of 
her shoulders. " He has sent her to a little board- 
ing school at Raincy, to learn music. A fine thing, 
is it not, and she already twenty-four years old ! I 
think it is nonsense, but it is no affair of mine." 

" She will, of coorst, return when h« d«Ml" 
tared the interro^pMot. 



S14 MOULDING A MAIDEN. 

** Without doubt," said the concierge, turning the 
five-franc piece over in her hand. 

Then, somebody calling her, she went down stairs, 
and he entered the studio. 

"Here is the picture that has made my cousia 
famous," said Stanley, calling to his friend from the 
farther part of the room. He had recognized it by 
the description. 

Arthur was startled. It was truly a magnificent 
work. It seemed as if Suzette stood there breathing 
before him, and he had provoked her to anger too 
often not to recognize the faithfulness of every 
detail. 

" It is perfect !" he answered, after a full minute 
had elapsed. 

Stanley glanced from the picture to Arthur and 
back again. 

*' Did you ever see her look like that ?" he inquired, 
lost in curiosity. 

Peck smiled at his earnestness. 

" You are asking me to reveal family secrets. 
However, I don't mind telling you that I have. 
Suzette is a combination of angel and devil. Your 
cousin had her at her worst in that pose." 

" But how could he make her retain that expres- 
sion long enough to paint it ?" 

Arthur told him the trick that Lysle had resorted 
to, as he had gleaned it from the girl herself, and 
Stanley pronounced it a very clever expedient. 

" Much cleverer than I should have supposed Lysle 
could have invented," he said, thoughtlessly, for he 
did not mean to disparage his cousin to this fellow, 
who had, he knew, no great liking for him. " What 
do you suppose that would sell for, in cash ?** 

Arthur had heard that Lysle had been offered a 



flTAtnUEY AT HSIDELBESa. SlI 

sum equal to $8000 for the painting, when it hung 
in the Salon, and said so. Stanley was overcome 
with surprise at the size of the figure. 

" He was a dunce not to take it," he said. " I sup- 
pose he has not a cent of insurance on it here. He 
has no idea of business. Let us see what else he 
has got." 

The pictures of Rosalie were the next ones to 
attract attention, and Stanley wished, as he gazed at 
them, that Arthur Peck were further away. It 
brought his mind back to America, to see those bits 
of canvas, and to the village in the mountains where 
they had been painted, that summer when they 
were all so happy together. He had not known fully 
until that minute how much he had missed his ward, 
notwithstanding the fact that he had thought of her 
hourly ever since they were separated. But the pic- 
tures were not of the Rosalie who had said good-bye 
to him. They were of that other Rosalie who had 
romped with him among the Indians, who had lifted 
her arms to be carried over deep fords, who had 
sported with him in the breakers at Cape May, sum- 
mer after summer. The Rosalie of these canvases 
was not thirteen years of age. She had not reached 
a period when her relations with her guardian must 
be restricted, to silence the comments of the idiots 
who make np the bulk of mankind. She did not 
wear gowns that reached to her ankles. It gave him 
a bad turn to see and to think, and he turned sadly 
away, and went,o another part of the studio, where 
Peck had resurrected something that .sed him to 
utter an exclamation. 

All the pictures that Lysle had painted of 
Clothilde, from the ones that he had done in M. 
Jouanneau's studio to the latest study of her face 



SIS MOULDINO A MAIDBN. 

and fully draped figure, were there together. Peck 
knew them the instant his eyes rested on them, and 
he could not help giving utterance to the expression 
that had attracted the attention of his companion. 
The nude one, representing the girl lying asleep in 
the sands, was the first he discovered, and it was the 
jwork of but a moment to take it up and place it in a 
good light on an easel. All the desire that he had 
felt to possess that girl came over him with redoubled 
strength as he gloated over the beauties of her per- 
son thus revealed to him. 

At school at Raincy ! He would find her, and 
next time she should not escape him ! 

Stanley Melrose had heard of nude paintings, 
taken from a living model, but he had nevet* seen 
one till now. The picture startled him much more 
than it did Peck, though for a very different reason. 
For several minutes they stood looking at it 
together. 

** Wonderful !" said Arthur, at last, in a tone of 
the most intense admiration. 

** It is indeed !" said Stanley. "And do you sup- 
pose Lysle actually painted that from a living 
girl ?" 

Arthur Peck gave a quick glance at the financier, 
and marked the strange expression in his face. 
Beads of perspiration had gathered on his forehead, 
and his hand that held the handkerchief with which 
he essayed to wipe them away, trembled. 

" From the girl herself ?" repeated Peck. " To 
be sure he did. You do not think he could paint 
that from his imagination, do you ? I have seen the 
girl, and I know that the likeness is perfect." 

** You — have — seen — " began Stanley, stammering 
out the words. 



8TAMLBT AT HETOBLBBBa. 91T 

■•To be sure. She was in my employ once, and a 
pretty little fuss she made because I tried to kiss her 
one morning. You would have thought that she 
would faint dead away if asked to exhibit her 
shoulders. Ah, the minx I But she came here and 
posed for Monsieur Lysle, and thought nothing of 
it ! The jade !" 

He shook bis fist half-angrily, half-playfully at the 
sleeping beauty, 

" Then you never saw her like — like that ?" said 
Stanley, still much moved. 

•• Oh, no. But I have heard where she is now, and 
I shall turn artist myself." 

Stanley, who had been in such a perspiration, 
began immediately to shiver. He drew out his 
watch in a shaking hand, and said they must be 
going. He but suddenly remembered an engage- 
ment, 

A few days later he took the train for Heidelberg. 
He could not get the " Sleeping Girl " out of his 
mind. 

As the train sped on, he grew quite indignant at 
all forms of immorality. He was sure that there 
ought to be a law forbidding the painting of nude 
women. He thought harshly of Lysle, and wished 
he had said less to him about associating so closely 
with Rosalie. A man who could draw a picture like 
that was not fit for the companionship of a pure 
young girl. If Lysle did not soon return to France, 
Stanley resolved that some way must be invented to 
keep him out of Rosalie's way. He grew very 
tender as he thought of the child, and hoped no 
harm would ensue from leaving her to the care of 
hw other guardians, during the short time he bad 



Sift UGOl^OmQ A HAIDKV. 

to be away. Neither of them seemed to him quite 
fit to have the charge of her. 

He was very glad to get to Heidelberg, but what 
he discovered there startled him more than anything 
he had anticipated. He first visited the cemetery 
where Max Vandenhoflf was buried. Then he 
searched the records of the Rath-Haus, hunted up 
various officials, talked with several landlords, and 
conversed with some of the prominent citizens and 
with the best posted foreign residents. So adroitly 
were his questions phrased that no suspicion was 
aroused, but as he went on his wonder grew greater 
than ever, and when he had learned all he could he 
lost no time in starting for home. He neither wrote 
nor telegraphed to announce his coming. On the 
vessel he sat all day immersed in his thoughts, over- 
whelmed with the magnitude of his discoveries. 

It was in the forenoon of a February day that 
Stanley Melrose received Miss Janet Steiner in his 
lawofiice on Broadway. He had landed quietly, and 
gone directly there instead of to the hotel, and had 
sent a note requesting her presence. As soon as she 
could don her garments and get to him, she was 
there. And, as the clerks had previously been 
instructed, they showed her into an inner room, 
where he sat awaiting her. 

They were both much agitated. For five minutes 
neither spoke a word. Like fencers, each seemed 
waiting for the other to begin. Stanley looked at 
the woman several times, while her gaze rested 
stolidly on one of the pictures of eminent lawyers 
that adorned the wall. 

* I have been there," he eaid at last, and lor tke 



STANUST AT HWDlTlWa. Hi 

first time he could remember. In that room, his voiot 

was unsteady. 

She looked up then, with a mute aad frightened 
inquiry in her eyes. 

"To Heidelberg?" 

She waited still for him to proceed. 

" I do not know all that it will be my duty to do,** 
he continued, after a pause. " But to begin with, 
you must have no more to say to Rosalie." 

The woman tried twice to speak and failed. Then 
she held out her hands in the attitude of supplica- 
tion. 

" I am not sure when I shall be ready to say any 
more than that," he went on, as she did not speak. 
" I do not wish to attract attention at present, and it 
is best that you should continue to reside at the 
hotel, but you must let the child entirely alone. I 
will leave it to you to invent excuses to the gover- 
ness and Lysle. You will make it much better for 
yourself if yoxi decide to make a full confession to 
me. I do not wish to proceed to extremes if I can 
help it. Perhaps you have already concluded to do 
this ?" 

She seemed like one suffering with partial paralysis, 
and it affected her utterance to a marked d«gree, as 
she essayed to reply. 

" I told you — you would — come to — wrong deci- 
sions," she said, feebly. 

He had had witnesses on the stand too many times 
to allow this to disconcert him. 

" Why, Janet," he said, disdaining to attach the 
title of relationship, " I have been to the cemetery 
where he is buried. I have talked with the keeper. 
I have looked at all the records. And do you meaa 
to tell me that I am wrong ?" 



S9D MouLonro a mauoos. 

Sht inclined her bead spasmodically in the affirma. 
five. 

** And that you are guilty of nothing ?" 

" Not— of what you — think," was the almost 
inaudible reply. 

" Is it your intention to tell me of what you are 
guilty, or do you prefer that I should unveil it in my 
own way ?" 

She roused herself a little. 

" I have never harmed you !'* she exclaimed. 
"Why should you unveil it at all ?" 

" For her sake," he answered, impressively. 

« Rosalie's I" 

She uttered the name of the child with a gasp. 

« Yes." 

** It would give her sorrow all her life !" she 
replied, earnestly. " If you care anything for her 
happiness, you will say no more !'* 

"That is impossible," said he. "The only ques- 
tion is, will you tell me the whole truth, in which 
case I am willing to aid you, or let me go on in my 
own way ?" 

" How long can I have to decide ?" she asked, in a 
whisper. 

" Three days.** 

Miss Steiner rose, bowed low, and left him al«o« 



"bok'toall m ▲omftk* m 



CHAPTER XVIIt 
•don't call me a child r* 

Rosalie was so overjoyed to see Stanley, after bis 
long absence, that she came very near throwing her- 
self into his arms when he appeared at dinner that 
evening. She had become so natural in her manner, 
through her contact with Lysle, who never dreamed 
of giving her the least directions about her conduct 
or anything else, that she had to blush for her pre* 
cipitation as she saw that Stanley gave it his mild 
disapproval. No one but Miss Steiner knew that he 
had arrived in the city, and she forebore to mention 
that she had seen him. Lysle, not having heard that 
he had come, was dining out, and there was an air 
of stiltedness to the meal that was not usual. 

Stanley talked a little, to be sure, about the sights 
he had seen in London, and the other places that he 
had earliest visited, and of which he had written long 
letters to the girl. Rosalie hoped he would speak of 
his own accord on what she had most in mind, but 
he did not, and at last she introduced the subject 
herseii : 

" Did you go to Heidelberg, as you intended ?'* 

He could not help glancing at the face of Miss 
Steiner, who sat directly opposite to him, and he saw 
the distress there. 

" Yes,*' he answered. ** It has a very pretty situa* 
tion, but I should not care to make it a permanent 
liome as so many Americans do. I prefer Paris." 

"I was not thinking «^ that," she replied SlQwijTa 



993 xocLittHa a if axdsk. 

" I wanted to know what you heard about my pcir* 
•nts." 

He wished she had asked him at another time, as 
he f«lt very uneasy about what the result might be. 
Miss Steiner looked as if she were liable to faint at 
any minute. 

"I talked with several people who knew your 
father," he said, evasively, "and I visited his grave." 

She realized at once that he was concealing some- 
thing. 

** My father ?" she repeated. ** Did you not see my 
mother's grave, also?" 

He raised his eyes to Miss Steiner's, unable to help 
it. 

"Your mother is not buried there," he said, 
firmly. 

Rosalie was too surprised to notice at first the 
pallor that covered the face of her other guardian. 

"Where is my mother buried, Miss Steiner ?" 

** In — in France," was the stifled reply. 

** Why, you are ill !" exclaimed the child. She 
touched the bell, and as a maid appeared she called 
her attention to the condition of the lady. As Miss 
Steiner vacated the room, she cast an appealing 
glance at Stanley. Brief as was the interchange of 
thought, it was su*fficient to ask him to quiet the 
child's inquisitiveness, and for him to answer that he 
had no intention of letting her know the truth. 

" What have you been doing since I have been 
away?" he asked, as soon as the equilibrium was 
restored. " Riding out every day with Lysle, I 
hear, and forgetting to take those long walks that you 
aiscd to think so fine." 

It pained her to hear him speak in this flippant 
They had just been referring to the sob* 



*iKifl^ OAJu:. xs ▲ aauA" III 

fiet of tier dead parents, and she wondered that he 
could be so thoughtless. More than this, she 
thought his references to Lysle neither witty nor 
called'for. 

"He wanted to ride," she replied, "and I had 
nothing to say about it. You told me I was to obey 
him. But is that all you have to tell me about what 
you learned in Heidelberg ? Did you find no por- 
traits of my parents ? I have thought of them a 
great deal since you went away, and have hoped 
you would bring back something that would show 
me how their faces looked." 

He might as well have it out, he thought, and he 
told her he had found nothing, 

** It was because I did not find anything, Rosalie, 
that I wanted to change the subject as soon as I 
could. There is nothing to tell, and it is painful to 
me to talk in relation to it." 

She looked much depressed, but obediently said 
no more. She felt that a g^eat change had somehow 
taken place in him. He was not the Stanley he used 
to be. He was more reserved, and a good deal 
sterner. He seemed much older, and very far 
removed from her, in a way that she could not 
understand. It was a great disappointment, and she 
was a long time going to sleep— longer even than 
on that saddest night she had then ever known, the 
night his steamer took him out to sea. 

In the morning Lysle, not having yet heard of 
Stanley's arrival, came for her, as was his custom. 
She was sitting with her things on, in the parlor, 
waiting for Stanley to come down, and as it wai 
past the hour when he had always met her she had 
grown slightly uneasy. As Lysle greeted her she 
UAd him the news, which he received with surprise. 



9M MooLBCiro A -iujsam, 

• Sunley here !** he exclaimed. ** Why did b« 
write to let us know he was coming ? I supposed him 
still somewhere in Germany. Well, if that is th« 
case, my nose is out of joint, I suppose," he added, 
with a laugh. 

They chatted for ten minutes more, and then 
Rosalie, grown very uneasy, rang for the hall- 
boy and asked him to go to the room of Mr. Mel- 
rose and see if anything was the matter. He presently 
returned with the information that Mr. Melrose had 
gone to bed late, and did not intend to rise for 
another hour. 

He had evidently forgotten all about his habit of 
walking before breakfast when in New York. Two 
months of foreign customs had made a change in 
him. 

** I hope you won't give up your walk on that 
account," said Lysle, as she rose and began to take 
off her hat. ** Stanley is probably tired out with his 
journey. He will be all right to-morrow. Let mc 
go with you this morning as I have been doing." 

She had much rather not have gone. She felt a 
mental sensation the like of which she had never 
experienced, but she assented and accompanied him 
to the street. 

** How is he looking ?" asked her escort. 

** Just the same," she replied, briefly ; but it was 
not true. Stanley had never looked to her as he did 
now, and she thought with a bitterness that was 
quite foreign to her young heart, that he never 
would look as he used. 

It was not because he had wanted to sleep instead 
«f taking that walk with her — the walk they had 
never missed since she was a wee thing who had to 
hold his hand in the crowded streets to keep froas 



''don't gau. MB ▲ omLOi.'' 939 

letting the throng push her away from him. If he 
had only sent her some regretful word by the meS' 
senger — something scribbled on a piece of paper ! 
He had forgotten her, that was only too evident. 
She had never forgotten him, never, when he was at 
home or away. She did not know whether she 
wanted most to cry, or to strike him with something 
that would hurt. 

" He wrote me that he went to my studio," con- 
tinued Lysle, oblivious of the torrent that was rag- 
ing in the little breast. " There are six pictures of 
you there, Rosalie, that I drew five years ago, when 
we were up in the country. On one of them I got a 
medal at the Salon." 

The last words aroused the slumbering flame and 
in a second it burst forth : 

"And that is all that you care about me !" she 
cried, tempestuously. " I am only something to 
paint into a picture that will bring you a medal ! 
It is a good thing that you do not sell your pictures, 
or some man with money could buy all of me you 
think worth anything ! I am nothing, nobody ! I 
wish I had never been born ! I should be glad if I 
could die !" 

Her indignation at the slight that Stanley had 
put upon her had found vent upon Lysle, as the 
most convenient object at hand. He stopped in the 
street, which was almost deserted, and gazed at her, 
too astounded to speak. 

" It is not you alone I" she went on, for she had 
not enough diplomacy to conceal the real cause of 
her excitement. "Stanley is just as bad. He had 
no business to send me a message like that, after I 
had got up, dressed and waited half an hour for 
him ! I shall not forget it, either ! When he wants 



W5 xouLDma a mauxsk. 

me to go again, I shall let him wait, as he has let 
me. Miss Steiner, too— what does she care about 
me ? She is asleep, as he is ! I have not one friend 
— ^not one !" 

She had roused him at last. 

" Rosalie, Rosalie ! my dear child !" he cried. 

** Oh, don't call me a child!" she retorted. "I 
am not a baby. I do not know much, but I am not 
a fool ! He has tried his * methods ' on me, and you 
have practiced with your brush, and neither of you 
think that I have feelings — that I am not a stick ! I 
am almost fourteen, and it is time some one showed 
me consideration. When he sent me that message, 
do you know what I had half a mind to do ? I 
thought of going up there and breaking his door ? 
Yes, I did ! I will tell him so, too, when I see him 
again !" 

With every sentence she struck her foot on the 
pavement, while her features showed the nervous 
excitement under which she was laboring. Lysle 
hesitated to say much to her, but he took her arm 
gently and they resumed their walk. 

It was the first time that the girl had ever given 
way to her temper, but the tendency to do so had 
been hers more than once. Stanley supposed, 
merely because there was no outward manifestation, 
that she had that complete control of herself which 
he believed every human being capable of attaining. 
It would have been as great a surprise to him at it 
was to Lysle could he have seen her now. 

The walk continued in silence for some time, 
when suddenly Rosalie lifted her doleful face to 
that of her companion. 

** I am sorry for what I said, Lysle — about jww. 



*iwm't oall me a child." 107 

I was angry at Stanley, and I said what I had no 
right to say ioyou. You — you will not mind it ?" 

" Not at all, ' he responded, quickly. " I was only 
wondering if you were not partly right. I did paint 
you in order to do a good piece of work and increase 
my fame. I am afraid it was not a good motive, 
when I recollect that you are my cousin and my 
ward. It occurs to me that T ought not to have 
used your face for that purpose." 

She was quite ashamed when she found that she 
had saddened him. 

"Now, don't you get cross!" she replied. "It 
was perfectly right for you to paint from me, and I 
am very glad you did it. I am really very glad. I 
wish you would paint another, as I look now." She 
paused, and turned red. " No, I don't mean as I 
look now, but as I ought to look, and as I am always 
going to look, after this, when I am with you." 

She would not rest content till he had promised 
her what she asked, but he said at first that he shoult? 
not think of exhibiting it, as he had the other. 
They disputed good-naturedly over this point for 
some time, and finally he said he would decide that 
point when the picture was completed. This being 
settled, he begged her to include Stanley in her for- 
giveness, and dismiss the whole affair from her 
mind. 

*' I do not like to see you do anything that makes 
you unhappy," he said, " and you and he are too 
good friends to quarrel over a little thing like this.** 

" But it is not a little thing !" she exclaimed. 
•* You cannot see it as I do. When he comes to ask 
me to walk with him, I shall remind him of this 
morning. Yes, I cannot help it. Then, when I hear 
what he says. I can tell better what I shall answer.** 



MOVLDora A itAioBir. 

Nothing that he was able to advance could changt 
her from this position, and he left her at the St. Nich- 
olas with some misgivings. Stanley, who had just 
come down to breakfast as she arrived, spoke to her in 
the ordinary way, not alluding to the morning walk, 
and the meal was a very quiet one. Miss Steiner, who 
sent word that she was indisposed, did not make her 
appearance. Stanley was evidently wrapped in his 
own thoughts so closely that he hardly knew what 
was going on around him. 

Rosalie went to her lessons with a sore heart. At 
lunch Stanley did not come home, a practice that 
was not infrequent with him on his busiest days, and 
as Miss Steiner was still absent from the table, the 
girl ate her meal alone. Lysle, who had been uneasy 
about her, came around at four o'clock to see if she 
would take her customary drive, and to his delight 
she went without demur. During the ride he again 
begged her to drop all thoughts of the affair of the 
morning, but she still felt the rankling in her breast, 
and would make no promises. Stanley ate his dinner 
with as few words as he had his breakfast, and when 
it was ended sat back in his chair half-an-hour, 
wrapped in dead silence. 

"Do you want to go out for a short walk?" he 
asked, starting up suddenly. " I have a good deal 
of work to do, and I cannot be out long." 

" I am not particular," she answered. " I have been 
out riding for two hours, and I had a very long walk 
this morning, before breakfast." 

He knew that there was something strange in 
those tones, but his mind was too full of other things 
to think of it very seriously. 

" Whom were you with ?" he asked, aimlessly. 

•• Why, Lysle, of course.** 



R« uttered a pronounced " Umph !** took up hit 

hat, which lay on the rack, and went up-stairs. 

She had never thought it possible to be so lone* 
some as she was after he had gone. She would havt 
been glad to have had even Miss Steiner there. She 
went to bed earlier than usual, but could not com* 
pose herself to sleep for a long time. 

In the morning she lay purposely beyond her 
usual limit, thinking that Stanley would send the 
maid to call her, and take her to task for keeping 
him waiting, thus giving her the chance she wanted 
to answer him. But he did not come down till 
breakfast was served, and when that meal passed 
like those of the preceding day, she was utterly mis- 
erable. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

INDISPUTABLE DOCUMENTS. 

The months went by, and nothing in particular 
was changed in relation to the attitude of the prin- 
cipal characters in our story toward each oth«'. 
Stanley had roused himself to attend to his personal 
business, after a fashion, but he was not by any means 
the sharp, alert man he had been. Lysle remained in 
America, though he felt that he was wasting time that 
ought to have been used to better advantage, for try 
as he might, he could not do his best work in the 
atmosphere of New York. Stanley so thoroughly 
neglected Rosalie, and Miss Steiner had so much less 
to say to her than she used, that he felt that he couH 



930 MOULDIKO A HAIDBir. 

not go. It would be leaving the girl in the hands 
of no one but her hired teachers, which he did not 
like to contemplate. Rosalie herself, who had now 
passed her fourteenth birthday, had changed as 
much as either of her two elder guardians. The con- 
duct of Stanley had depressed her spirits to a marked 
degree, and this state of mind was succeeded by a 
condition that could hardly be called less than 
morose. She kept at her studies, and took her walks 
and rides with Lysle, but all the brightness of youth 
and the vivacity of childhood seemed to have gone 
out of her. 

Lysle was immensely pained at all this, but he had 
no idea where to find the remedy. He knew that it 
was associated in some way with the changed attitude 
of his cousin, but he did not see how he could go to 
him and demand that he resume his old manner. 
Stanley had given much more of his time to her for 
a dozen years than any one could have claimed was 
his duty. If he had other business to attend to now, 
it was for the junior guardian, if anybody, to step into 
the breach. The only thing that troubled Lysle was 
a knowledge of his inability to fill the vacant place, 
not only in the estimation of his ward, but in any 
other sense whatever. Stanley had a "method" 
that he had adopted with Rosalie, which seemed to 
work wonders. Lysle had no method, and he had 
not even the smallest conception of the way to frame 
one. He could merely let her do as she pleased, and 
this did not give full satisfaction either to her or 
himself. A gloom had settled on them all which he 
had not the slightest idea how to remove, and yet 
which he felt he could not bear much longer. 

In the occasional brief talks that he had with Stan- 
ley, there was nothing said that could give a clue to 



BRDIBFCTAiLB DOCTJMITSTi. 881 

any reas^on for the changed order of things. The 
lawyer pleaded business as an excuse for everything, 
and there seemed justice in the claim. When the 
▼acation season arrived, and Lysle asked him what 
places he thought Rosalie had best be taken to, the 
reply was that he could suit himself about that. 
And when Lysle mentioned that he ought to run 
over to Paris, if only for a month or two, to attend 
to the things he had left there, Stanley astounded 
him with the question, " Why don't y ju take her 
over there with you ?" 

"Take her over !" repeated Lysle, as if he could 
hardly believe he had heard aright. " What do you 
think Miss Steiner would say to that ?" 

" Janet ?" responded Stanley, rather contemp- 
tuously. " She would probably say nothing about 
it at all. If she did it would not matter. You and 
I are a majority, you know." 

Lysle's eyes opened wide. 

" But supposing she put her foot down, and said 
she would not go ?" 

" In that case, you could take Lisa and get along 
just as well. In fact, I think, a little better. There 
arc things about Janet — but, never mind. The 
probability — I might say the certainty — is that she 
would not go with you, but that ought not to 
interfere with your plans in the least." 

Could it be Stanley who was saying these 
things ? 

" You seem to have great confidence in Lisa," saif' 
Lysle, after a slight pause. 

** I have confidence in no women," was the peculiar 
reply. " She is doubtless as good as the rest of 
tfMm. I should not want Ja«^et to go, and if I couI4 



S32 SfOULDING A BtAIDSR. 

give you my reasons you would quite agree witli 
me." 

The artist was lost in wonder. What could such 
expressions mean in that connection ? 

"Your insinuations are serious," he said. "If 
you know anything that affects Miss Steiner's fitness 
to have the care of Rosalie, it is your undoubted 
duty to tell me at once." 

His voice was firm and his earnestness beyond 
question. Stanley wondered how he could 'have 
doubted this fellow's goodness merely because he 
had painted the picture of a nude female. He was 
evidently an artist and nothing else — a sort of 
woman, himself, in masculine attire. 

" It is a serious matter, Lysle," he answered, " and 
I do not like to tell you. I have been trying to think 
what it is best to do about it for a long time, — ever 
since I returned from Europe, — and I cannot quite 
decide. It is true that you have a right to know, 
but the subject is so painful that you will not thank 
me if I take you into my confidence. Accept my 
advice and ask nothing more about it." 

Lysle brushed his hair back from his forehead 
with his hand, and was silent for a full minute. 

" Does it concern Rosalie ?" he asked, at last, and 
the firmness that had been in his voice was no longer 
there. 

" It does. It concerns us all. And yet, I tell you 
again, you will be sorry if you compel me to tell you 
any more." 

" It is not a question whether it will or will not 
sadden me," was the young man's answer. " If it 
affects our ward, I must know it. You have no right 
to keep it from me." 

** If you are sure that you wish to know it, 1 shall. 



INDISPUTABLB DOOUMENTS, 233 

k^\\ you," said Stanley, after a long pause. "But 
you must first promise to take no steps unless I con- 
seMt." 

"I promise," replied the other, wonderingly. 

"The first thing that aroused my suspicions," 
began Stanley, " was because Miss Steiner seemed 
so much affected whenever she was aslced anything 
about the Vandenhoffs. I have tried a dozen times, 
if I have once, to learn something of their lives in 
Europe, while she was with them, and the particulars 
of their deaths, but always without success. The 
moment I touched upon the subject, she would be 
taken with a faintness, and be able to make only the 
briefest replies. For a time I ascribed this to her 
natural disinclination to discuss a painful theme, but 
her evident alarm the day when I announced my 
intention of visiting Heidelberg could not be 
accounted for on any such hypothesis. I tried sev- 
eral times to induce her to talk, but she was too agi- 
tated to say anything. Then I decided to pretend 
that I already knew something about the matter, and 
asked her to explain to me whatever she pleased 
before I made my journey. All she would say to 
this was that it would be better for both of us if I 
did not go to Heidelberg at all, and that I should be 
sure to misunderstand what I learned there if I did. 
There was nothing left for me but to go. I think 
you would have felt the same." 

Lysle's attention was fixed. He responded to the 
implied query by a nod of his head, fearing to break 
the continuity of the narrative if he spoke. 

" My first act on my arrival was to visit the 
Protestant cemetery, and seek out the Vandenhofl! 
\ot. You are doubtless prepared to be astonished, 
but you can imagine that I was no less so at the 



SS4 MOULDING A MAIDXK. 

discovery that I made there. In that lot, Lytlfl^ 
there is but one grave !" 

The listener could only repeat in deep tone«, 
" But one grave ?" 

" But one — that of Max Vandenhoff. I asked for 
the address of the undertaker who had officiated at 
his interment. When I found him, he said he 
remembered the circumstances surrounding the 
burial perfectly. He had known Herr Vandenhoff 
slightly. The gentleman had lived long in the town 
as a bachelor, but had been away for some years— 
to France, it was understood. Yes, he had heard 
that the Herr had married there, or in England, or 
one of those countries, but it was remarked that 
no wife had accompanied his body when it was 
brought on the train for interment. Only Miss 
Steiner had come, and everybody wondered at 
her intense grief, for she was after all no relation. 
She did not stay long, not longer than was neces- 
sary to place the stone over the dead man's grave. 
No, the undertaker had never heard that Mrs. Van- 
denhofif had had a child. It might be, but he had 
not heard, and he kept well posted in all the gossip 
of the place. He would ask his wife, who was 
within doors, and when he had done so he still shook 
his head. I went from him to the house where Max 
had stayed, and to the hotel where Janet lived when 
she came with his body, and no one knew anything 
more." 

Lysle brushed his hair back again. Had he been 
accused of some terrible thing himself he could 
hardly have been more affected, 

" What do you suspect ?" he asked, in a whisper. 

" I told you that what I had to say would not be 
agreeable," was the answer, " I know of but o*"^ 



INDISPL". AELIi DOCUMENTi. S8S 

teason that should cause the concealment of a death, 
in a case like this. Miss Steiner had never Intimated 
to me that Mrs. Vandenhoff did not lie by the side 
ci her husband. When I spoke of it, on my return, 
•he stanmmered out the information that the lady 
was buried in France. I told her that night that 
she must tell me the whole truth, or I should take 
pains to have it made known in some other manner. 
For the next fortnight she was too ill to leave her 
room. Since then, though we have met repeatedly, 
she has volunteered nothing that might tend to clear 
up the mystery. Refusal to explain is confession." 

" That is putting it strongly," said Lysle, feebly, 

" I am quoting a maxim of law. But I have not 
told you all. I gave her a direct series of questions 
one evening after that, with no better result. * Were 
you with Mrs. Vandenhoff when Rosalie was born ?* 
'Yes.' 'Were you there when she died?' *Yes,* 
after a good deal of hesitation. * Do you know 
where she is buried ?' No answer. * Will you take 
me to the spot ?' And what did she say then ! ' Oh, 
no, no ! Do not ask me anything more ! I cannot 
answer you !' " 

The faith he had summoned was beginning to 
leave the younger man. It certainly looked like a 
strong case of circumstantial evidence. 

" And you think that she — " 

"Yes." 

As fixed as the idea had become in Lysle's mind 
what his cousin meant, it shocked him to hear this, 

* And her motive ?" was the next query. 

** It may have been any one of a dozen. Spite, 
jealousy, cupidity. We do not know at this moment 
that the will which was proven as Max VandenhofTs 
^s genuine. It gave her $25 ,000, and a guardianship 



MS mommsQ a scaidbs. 

of bis child, equivalent to support for herself for 
twenty years. It gave you and me something, it is 
true, perhaps to quiet our suspicions, but the real 
will may hAve given us much more.'* 

Lysle's blood seemed for a moment to freeze in 
his veins. 

** Have you uttered these suspicions to any one 
else ?" he asked. 

** To no one." 

** Then you musv not,*' he said, firmly. 

** Must not ? Have I no duty to perform ?" 

** You can perform no such duty as you have in 
mind," replied Lysle, in the same tone, " without mak- 
ing it certain that Rosalie will learn of this matter. 
And that would be a worse thing than any you would 
try to remedy." 

Stanley stared at him in surprise. 

**But if she were an imposter ? If Miss Steiner 
had brought her here to inherit a fortune that is not 
honestly hers !" 

Lysle bowed his head to conceal his emotion. 

" At the present that, at least, is far from being 
proven," he replied. " I tell you, you must go very 
carefully in a thing like this. I must have a talk 
with Miss Steiner myself." 

"Your' 

•♦ Certainly." 

" I ought to be present," said Stanley, not liking 
the idea of a private conference between these 
people. 

" It would be better not," was the answer. ** You 
have tried to get the true story from her, and on 
your own statement, have failed. I will not say that 
I am any more likely to be successful, but if there is 
any chance that I shall be, I must attempt it alone." 



CSDISPOTABLB DOODlOOm. 9S7 

He had never seen Lysle so much in earnest. 
He wondered what had given him this new strength 
of mind. 

"Very well," said Stanley, as he saw that the 
promise left him the judge of what evidence he, 
might think sufficient. " But let me warn you of 
one thing. A woman who is guilty of a crime is a 
most dangerous creature to deal with. She will do 
things that no man would dream of to convince 
you." 

" It is for us to prove her guilty,** said Lysle, 
impressively. " She is entitled to the presumption 
of innocence till that is done. I shall see her as 
soon as possible, and when I have done so I shall be 
better able to talk to you. But — mind ! — not a 
word that can reach Rosalie !" 

Miss Steinerhad no suspicion of Lysle's errand when 
she came into her parlor in response to the request 
which he sent to her through the maid. She had 
been little better than an invalid since that day 
when Stanley thrust his Heidelberg discoveries in 
her face. She knew the secretive nature of his mind 
and his contempt for his younger cousin, and she 
believed the last thing he would be likely to do was 
to take him into his confidence. She had not time 
to take more than one glance at the countenance of 
the young artist, however, before she realized, as 
well as if he had already spoken, that he knew all. 

** My cousin Stanley," he began, " has made me 
the confidant of some very strange investigations 
and surmises of his, in relat.on to you. I can sec on 
what grounds he puts his conclusions, which are 
very injurious to your character and standing, and 
even to the position of our ward. He believes 
fou a criminaL'* 



99$ KOULDmO ▲ MAIDEN. 

"Our ward, Rosalie?" she interrupted, trembling. 

** Yes, He doubts whether she is " — he stopped for 
some seconds, overcome by his feelings — " whether 
she is really the daughter of Mr. Vandenhoflf." 

Miss Steiner pressed her hands upon her forehead, 
as if to relieve her overtaxed brain. 

" Has he gone so far as to say that ?" she said, in 
a voice that was hardly above a whisper. 

" He has," responded Lysle, composing himself 
with difficulty. " He proposes to fully settle that 
question by further investigations, unless you arc 
willing to give him the proofs he requires. Her 
position, her fortune, everything is at stake. He is a 
lawyer, and he cannot understand what motive you 
can have to conceal anything, unless you have com- 
mitted acts for which you fear punishment." 

" So he has told me," said the woman, slowly. 

** And yet you have not given him the answers ho 
requires >" 

Her self possession gave way all at once. 

" I could not !" she cried, in pain. " Oh, God J 
Why must I bear this longer ?" 

He found his feelings hardening, even while her 
suffering called forth his pity. 

" That is equivalent to a confession," he answered. 

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "It is nothing of the 
sort ! There are things that I cannot tell you. You 
might find them out, but if you did it would do you 
no good !" 

"We are not thinking of ourselves," he said. 
** We are thinking of Rosalie." 

" It would harm her most of all," she exclaimed, 
earnestly. " If it is her interest that you seek, you 
can subserve it best by doing nothing." 

He could not tell what to make of this, but he 



OfTDiSPUTABLE DOOUMBinS. 

told her that Stanley was bent on probing erery thing 
to the bottom. 

Miss Steiner leaned back in her chair as though 

too weak to sit upright. 

" Has he still other suspicions, then ?" she asked^ 
weakly. 

"Yes," he said, sharply. "You may as well know. 
He thinks you may have forged the will that you 
brought to America." 

The woman sat up in her chair, with new strength 
that had suddenly come to her. 

" I was very liberal to him, then, and I did not 
even forget j'^a," she said, ironically. " It is strange, 
is it not, that I gave you so much, and that I did 
not give myself more ?" 

" Not on his theory," responded Lysle, quickly. 
" He thinks there was a real will that gave us more 
and you less." 

So strong did she grow at this that she rose from 
her chair, and walked slowly up and down the room, 

"Mr. Melrose does me too much honor," she said, 
after a pause. " I am, according to his notion, a 
murderer, a forger, a thief of a great fortune, not 
for myself, but for others. Is it not ridiculous ? 
Did you ever read in the stories of crime anything 
as senseless as that ?" 

He could hardly help thinking that it was the 
courage of desperation that had given her this new 
aspect, and while he still dreaded an exposure for 
Rosalie's sake, he knew that it would have to come, 
and wanted to forestall Stanley, if he could 

*' Am I to understand that you will tell me noth- 
ing ?" he asked. 

She stopped in her walk. 

•* There is nothing to be told that is of the slight* 



S40 MOULDUia ▲ MAIDiEIf. 

est importance to either you or him ! I have warned 
him, and now I warn you, that you will be sorry if 
you persist in going into the matter. It will harm 
Rosalie beyond repair, and it will benefit no one in 
the world. No, not even to the extent of increasing 
any person's share of the property left by Max Van- 
denhoff," she added, sarcastically. 

Both of the speakers were quite out of their usual 
element. Stanley would have been surprised to 
know that either of them could show so much deter- 
mination. 

" I should be glad to believe you," replied Lysle, 
in answer to her last statement, " but I must admit 
that all the evidence points ina contrary direction. 
Now there is another thing to tell you. I am going 
to Paris in a few weeks, and I intend to take Rosalie 
with me." 

She stopped again in her walk which she had just 
resumed, and stood like one dazed. 

*• Take Rosalie !" she repeated. " How often have 
I told you that I would never go to Paris ?" 

** It is not intended that you should," he replied, 
calmly. 

Thenher smothered wrath burst forth in all its force. 

"You are shrewd men, you and your cousin," 
she said, drawing herself up to her full height, and 
looking down on him with scorn. (Excited as he 
was, he could not help thinking what a picture she 
would make.) " Take Rosalie to Paris, will you ! 
You will not take her one foot of the way ! Not an 
inch ! Stanley has taught her to despise me, and 
you have learned the same lesson, but you are pro- 
posing to go too far ! Take Rosalie ! And to 
Paris! You! Never, while I am alive to prevent 

itr 



OTDISPUTABLB DOOUMBSm Sll 

His admiration for the magnificence of her pose 
was intense, but he was lost in wonder at the sub*- 
limity of the defiance that she had thrown in hit 
teeth. 

•* You dare us to do our best, then ?** he said. 

** Yes, or your worst ! Whatever it is, it is bettei 
than submitting longer to your dictation ! You will 
rue it, mark me ! but if you wish to go on, do so J 
It is now your affair, not mine !" 

" The first thing would probably be to put yoUi 
under arrest," he said, bridling. 

" Oh, no ! The first thing would be to find some 
shred of evidence that would warrant a judge in 
issuing the papers, and that you have not yet been 
able to do ! You would like to have me furnish you 
with it, but you will have to excuse me." 

He thought a moment. 

" You may be right," he said, ** in relation to that, 
but I shall go to France at once, to discover the 
grave of Mrs. Vandenhoff. And this will not be so 
hard as you, perhaps, imagine." 

She laughed another of those bitter laughs. 

" When you have found it," she said, " be kind 
enough to let me know the location." 

" If I do not find it, you will be under still greater 
suspicion, for you have admitted that you were with 
her when she died. I shall find the people who were 
with you. Since you dare me to this act, I must 
accept your challenge." 

Her only reply was another laugh that chilled him. 
Was he really dealing with a murderess? 

He went back to Stanley, and related the full par- 
ticulars of the conversation. The lawyer nodded 
wisely, and said he had anticipated as much. They 
talked the matter over for an hour, and the decisior 



WaULDTSlQ A BLIIDSH. 

was that Lysle should go to France and pursue his 
investigations, while Stanley remained at home to 
watch the suspected woman. As Lysle spoke 
French so perfectly, and knew several of the best 
detectives in Paris, he would, it was thought, come 
to some decision in a short time. 

Before the day on which he was to sail, however, 
there came a message from Miss Steiner that com- 
pletely altered their plans. After her excited inter- 
view with Lysle she had taken to her bed, and was 
so ill for some days that a physician v/as in constant 
attendance. The medical man was not long in ascer- 
taining that her trouble was largely mental, and he 
urged her to do something, if possible, to ease her 
mind of what was wearing upon it. It was he who 
brought the message verbally to Stanley, and it was 
to this effect : 

" Miss Steiner says that while she cannot reveal 
either to you or Mr. Lysle, what you desire, she is 
willing to confide everything to any outside person 
whom you may select, and in whose probity and 
judgment you fully rely. She will answer every 
question you have asked or may ask, bearing on the 
points at issue, and give him proof that she tells the 
truth. He is then to report to you his findings, but 
not the reasons for them. I do not understand this 
matter at all, and do not wish to," added the doctor, 
in conclusion. " I only know that my patient is in a 
dangerous condition with brain trouble, and that 
this course would tend greatly to relieve her." 

Stanley said he would think the proposition over, 
and he did so for a whole day. He saw that it 
might be difficult to prove all his suspicions before a 
court. If he could get her under the cross-examina- 
tioa of a shrewd attorney she would be likely to 



I HDI8 P UTABLB DOOUMBNTK. 

eompromise her case, no matter how cunning she 

might be. Who was the best man ? He was not 
iong in deciding that it was Luke Woodstock, if he 
would consent to undertake it. 

Lysle accepted the proposition at once, when h« 
was called in, and agreed in the selection of Wood* 
stock. He was glad that some way had opened 
which might save a part at least of the unpleasant- 
ness inseparable from the case. He had just been 
out to walk with Rosalie, and the thought that her 
young head must be troubled with such a story as 
this promised to be, had given him the greatest 
uneasiness. 

Woodstock, after thinking the matter over, 
accepted the trust, and had a talk with Miss Steiner 
a day or two after. First he drew up a statement 
which he made both the Melrose cousins sign, that 
they would abide entirely by his decisions, and Stan- 
ley wrote out for him a categorical list of what he 
wished him to ascertain, besides confiding to him 
every scrap of information and suspicion that he 
had. The questions were nearly a hundred in 
number and framed to meet every possible exigency. 

Miss Steiner was closeted with the referee an hour 
each day for nearly a week, the physician not being 
willing that she should be submitted to more lengthy 
trials, and at the end of that time Mr. Woodstock 
wrote out this opinion : 

" / find no reason for any alteration of the present 
guardianship of Miss Rosalie Vandenhoff, or for any 
other proceedings whatever, legal or otherwise, affecting 
Miss Janet Steiner. This decision has been arrived at iy 
mtans of indisputable documents** 



S44 HOULDDra a MAroBir. 

Stanley was very much disappointed when he 
received these lines, and enclosed them in a note 
which he sent to his cousin, Lysle read them twice 
before he could believe his eyes, and then big tears 
of overwhelming joy rolled down his cheeks. 



CHAPTER XX. 

•*YOU MUST GO WITH ME.** 

The very first time that Lysle met Miss Steiner 
after the report of the lawyer, he took occasion to 
tender her an apology for the things he had said at 
their last interview. He was very frank about it, 
saying that he had felt himself right on that 
occasion, and had nothing to reproach himself with, 
as far as he had then understood his duty. But 
the report of Mr. Woodstock had put an entirely 
different aspect on the case, and he had no wish 
to seek further enlightenment. Miss Steiner heard 
him quietly. She was not the same woman in 
appearance that she had been during those years 
when he had hitherto known her. Ill as she was 
still, she had a new erectness and an air of conde- 
scension as she listened to him, that put him some- 
what out of ease. 

" I am going back to France soon," he said, " not, 
as before, to seek information about your history, 
but to attend to business of my own. I cannot telL 
bow long I shall remain, but I trust there will be no 
more dissentions between us." 

"There has never been need of any," was her 



* YOU MUST GO WITH lOB." 94A 

f«p]y * I did all I could to avoid it for a dozen 
years, by allowing Mr. Melrose to treat me as he 
pleased. He can never do it again, though ! I 
shall exercise my full rights from this time on, and, 
if there is trouble on that account it will be of his 
making," 

There was great determination in the pale face of 
the woman, and Lysle felt that there would be 
almost sure to be a collision between her and Stanley 
before he was out of sight of land. 

"I will tell Stanley of your position," he said, 
•*and urge him to give you no cause of offence, I 
should dread more than anything the effect of any 
difference between you on the mind of our ward. 
Rosalie is already affected by the change that she 
has found in my cousin since his return, and it will 
be very injurious to her if it goes any further. She 
has been with me a great deal, as you know, since 
that happened, and I have had occasion to notice the 
despondent ways into which she has fallen, I hope 
you will do what you can to shield her from all 
unhappiness." 

Miss Steiner was considerably older than the 
artist, and this fact was brought home to him in the 
crushing look with which she met his suggestion. 

" I will take care of her," was the haughty reply. 
"I think I may consider myself as well fitted for 
the task as a schemer after her fortune, like Mr. Mel- 
rose, or a painter of nude figures, like you !" 

He started as though she had struck him. 

** I am an artist !" he exclaimed, proudly. " In 
the practice of my art I have occasionally drawn 
from the nude body. But if you mean to insinuate 
that I have ever — under any circumstances — lowered 
My profession or myself *"'*u 5tat* that which is 



M6 MouLDma a miidek. 

totally without foundation. I am a gentleman, MLat 
Steiner, and I will not permit any person to slander 



me 



So he could be aroused on occasion, could he ? 
She was as much astonished at his manner as he 
had been at hers, that other day. 

"Never mind," was her calm answer. "You arc 
the best judge of your own character. You must 
remember, however, that I am not the first one of 
this trio of guardians to make insinuations. You 
and your cousin began it, and you went much further 
than I have thought of doing. But on one point you 
may set your mind at rest. Rosalie will be quite 
safe in my hands. She has had enough of masculine 
methods, and it will be to her advantage to spend a 
little time in the company of persons of her own sex. 
A pleasant voyage to you. If your business there 
presses, do not hasten back under any impression 
that your ward will suffer. I assure you she will 
have the best of care." 

Lysle could not help feeling the caustic sarcasm 
that underlaid these words. 

" I shall not answer you in a similar vein to that 
which you have assumed," he said. " Rosalie is no 
ordinary girl. It is a perilous time with her now, 
approaching fourteen as she is, and her entire life 
may be moulded out of her experiences with the 
world in the next few years. I shall come back, at 
the latest, in a few months, not with any intention 
of interfering with you, but to see, as it is my right 
to see, that she has the sort of education that she 
needs, both in mind and heart. For it is not enough 
that a girl should receive a mere technical training. 
She should be educated in the guidance of her 
tnpulses and the disposition of her affections. A 



•tOU most go with lOB." 847 

y«uag woman may have passed through the best 
schools, but if she has come out of them all without 
tenderness for others, she has wasted her time and 
laid the foundation of a joyless existence." 

She had never heard him speak like that, and was 
much surprised to find that it was in him. 

"You speak like a text-book," was her comment 
" How can you know anything whatever about the 
mind of a young girl ?" 

His eyes filled with tears that he could not control. 

" Do not make a cynic of her !" he exclaimed, earn- 
estly. " Yoa have had something in your own 
experience that has made the world seem dreary. 
Do not teach her that there is no sunshine, because 
you have known too much of cloud. She has a 
bright mind, a clear perception, a loving nature. 
Do not crush out her nobler instincts while they are 
putting forth their tendrils !" 

The first letter that he wrote home was to Rosalie, 
giving an account of his journey, and expressing 
the hope that sha had been happy since he went 
away. The second was to Stanley, and it contained 
this paragraph : 

** A very annoying thing has happened since I left 
Paris. Some rascal has broken into my studio, 
through the . skylight, and committed sifveral 
depredations. The worst is the mutilation of my 
great painting, ' The Angry Woman,' which has 
been slashed with a knife into ribbons, apparently in 
mere wantonness. My nude study, ' The Sleeping 
Girl,' has been cut bodily out of its frame and carried 
away. I have informed the police of the affair, but 
as it may have occurred any time within a number 
of months, there is little chance of apprehending tht 



S4S lIOULDINa A HAIDENo / 

perpetrator. He cannot have sold the picture he 
took away, or the fact would have become known, 
as my work is recognizable by any artist or dealer. 
Take it altogether it is very strange piece of business, 
I shall try to copy the ' Angry Woman,* but I much 
fear I cannot make it equal the original. Although I 
would not have sold either of them, it is something 
to remember that I was offered forty thousand 
francs for one, and twenty-five thousand for the other 
last year." 

Stanley felt that Arthur Peck must have done this 
work, but there were other things that were troubling 
him just then. He had made several very unfortun- 
ate turns in the Street, and a large slice of his fortune 
had disappeared with a celerity that was anything 
but gratifying. He had lost his first jury case ; he 
had failed to be admitted to a pool that was destined, 
he knew, to clear a big sum in Harlem lots ; and now 
came this slump in stocks which he had thought 
surely booked for a ten-point rise. He had intended 
to renew his old relations with Rosalie after Lysle 
left, for he realized that, unless he did so, she 
would have no advisor but Miss Steiner, whom he 
had begun to fear as much as he had once despised. 
The woman sat at the table with him now, not as 
a shrinking suppliant for his mercy, but like a queen 
of her own realms who did not intend to brook any 
unwarranted interference with her prerogatives. 
He had meant to claim his share of Rosalie's time, 
even though he felt that the girl had lost her old 
sentiment in regard to him, but these business 
troubles changed everything. He had too much to 
do without bothering with a child and an old maid, 
as he contemptuously designated them in his 



''irOU MUST GO WITH MB.* 

thoughts. In the annoyance of his difficulties, be 
forgot that Rosalie wore long skirts, and that her 
fourteenth birthday had come and gone. 

So carefully had he covered his steps that only his 
broker knew of the losses he had sustained. To 
the business world he was as worthy of confidence as 
ever, and he set about recouping the sums he had 
dropped. Like many a speculator before him, his 
hard experience unnerved his brain and made him 
do rash things. Sometimes, to be sure, he made a 
successful deal, but oftener he met with greater 
losses. There came a time at last when he had no 
choice between declaring himself a bankrupt, and 
using a part of Rosalie's fortune to save himself 
from ruin. 

He thought it all over for days before he decided 
upon the latter alternative. He had invested some 
of her money with his own in several things that he 
considered perfectly safe, and which had undergone 
a depreciation, notably stock in the Alma gold mine 
in Colorado. If his failure were announced, the 
effect would be bad, both on her interests and on those 
of others whose trustee he had become. He argued to 
himself, with that sophistry which comes so easily to 
the man in a tight place, that it would be better to 
risk a little more of Rosalie's money than to lose 
what he had already put in. He had been mistaken 
before, but this time he had a sure *' tip." 

The decision was acted upon, and the result was 
as he had forecasted. Both their investments were 
saved. Stanley took a good deal of praise to him- 
self as he thought over his action in this matter. He 
really believed he had done a very creditable thing. 

It was shortly after this that he rose f.om the 
table one evening, and remarked to Rosalie: 



%60 wanuoNQ a maiden. / 

** You may get your tiat. I am going out for i 
short walk with you." 

The girl's temper was on fire in an instant. /It 
had been so long since that morning when he lay 
a-bed and allowed her to wait for him, that she had 
ceased expecting to have him speak of going out 
with her again. Now it was too much to have the 
delayed invitation come in the form of an abrupt 
command. She repressed herself with a powerful 
effort. 

** Thank you, I do not care to go," she said. 

He stopped and looked at her. So schooled was 
she in the art of mastering emotion that he could 
see no trace of the tumult going on within. 

**I wisA you to go," he said, quietly. 

" I said I did not care to," she answered, in a tone 
as collected as his. 

A shadow crossed his face. 

** You do not seem to understand," he said, raising 
his voice slightly. " I am going out, and you are to 
go with me." 

Miss Steiner had left the room and they were 
entirely alone. Never before had he used that tone, 
and Rosalie felt all its indignity sweep over her in a 
maddening wave. 

Rising, she strode to where he stood. 

** How dare you address me like that !" she said, 
flashing her angry eyes at him. " I tell you I will 
«w/ go ! It IS you who do not understand ! Listen, 
then ! 7 wt7l not go /" 

He felt a sickening faintness at the heart, but he 
must enforce obedience at whatever cost. 

** I am your guardian," he said, " and I have a 
H^ht to command you. You must get your things 
and go out with me.** 



•tou must go with MB." 951 

**What will you do?" she retorted, growing 
yet angrier. " Strike me, periiaps ? I — sliall — not 
go ! Why do you not begin ?" 

There are difficulties in the way of enforcing a 
mandate of this kind upon a young person of the age 
of fourteen. But this was not the thought that was 
uppermost in the mind of Stanley Melrose at that 
moment. There was something in the eyes of the 
girl that gave him the greatest alarm. He did not 
realize at first what it was, in its full meaning, but it 
staggered him from his equanimity. When he 
recovered suflficiently to see clearly, he found Rosalie 
standing there still, in her attitude of defiance, her 
every expression daring him to do his worst. 

" I shall not touch you, never fear," he responded, 
trying to appear calm. " In all the time I have had 
the care of you I have never made an unreasonable 
request. For some reason which I do not under- 
stand, you have decided on the course you are pur- 
suing. The result can only be to your injury; yours, 
and that of the woman who has counselled you to 
this move." 

The flashing eyes wavered a moment, and she 
tried to understand what he meant by his insinua- 
tion, and when it dawned on her, she repelled it 
instantly. 

" No one has advised me. For months you have 
treated me as if I were an inanimate object, unworthy 
of your notice. When you change suddenly and 
become aware that I am a sentient being, it is loo 
much that your first words should be a cool request 
—or command, if you please — that I should accom- 
pany you on a walk. You have done without me 
for a long time, and you can do without me still." 

In spite of her firmness of tone, her body shook 



S53 xouunNo ▲ ieaidbh. 

with the excitement under which she was laboring. 
It was the second time in her life that she had given 
way to anger. A moment later she began to sway, 
and caught at the table for support. In an instant 
he was at her side and had his arm around her, but 
she summoned new strength and threw him off. 

"My little girl," he began, all his old tenderness 
and more returning. 

" No, I am not your little girl !" she responded, 
impulsively. " I am no longer a baby, and you shall 
not treat me like one. I do not need your help,** 
she added, as he made another movement to sup- 
port her. " I would rather fall than have you touch 
mer 

Strong man as he was, these words took the blood 
from his cheeks. 

" I do not know why you say these things,** he 
ftammered. *' I cannot think that I have done any- 
thing to deserve them." 

She was wavering in her anger already, and only 
too anxious to accept the olive-branch, but woman' 
like, she did not wish to seem to yield her position 
too easily. 

" You surely forget," she said, " how you have 
treated me during the past spring. Until you went 
to Europe you were with me several hours each day. 
Since your return you have never been out of doors 
with me, and have sat at the table as if you were 
deaf and dumb. Even your library, where I used to 
sit all the afternoon reading, has been locked against 
me. Do you think I cannot understand anything ? 
Am I to be thrown aside when you do not happen 
to want me, and then be picked up again at your 
pleasure like a disused toy ? There never was 4 



"yOTT MTT8T GO WITH MIB. 853 

time till now that I have questioned your authority. 
But vrhen — " 

She paused, trying to regain control of her feel* 
ings, which had begun to get the better of her, and 
Stanley said, very gently : 

" You have been under my charge ever since you 
can remember, Rosalie. Did I ever ask an unrea- 
sonable thing of you ? Have I not acted as if your 
good was my chief care f" 

His manner affected her powerfully. 

" Yes," she said, " until you came home the last 
time." 

" And since then I have been very busy. And 
Lysle was here, and I thought he would do quite as 
well to walk with you." 

" That is just it !" she exclaimed. " It was not 
that you wanted to walk with me, but that you 
thought / wanted j'^?/. It is all right. I don't com- 
plain. But if you ask me to walk merely because 
you think I want to do it, I have no desire to go." 

He put his hand on her arm then, and she did not 
repulse him. He took one of her hands in his, and 
«he did not try to take it away. 

" Why, Rosalie," he said, in his softest tone, "I 
took you to walk when you could only go as far as 
around the block and back, when I had to carry 
you in my arms up the stairs, and your tired little 
head would fall asleep on my shoulder. I took you 
to the seashore and went into the water with you 
when I had to hold you up by the band around your 
waist. I put you on the back of a pony when you 
could not have held yourself there to save your life. 
We were friends and companions until you grew so 
large that I took advice — and wise advice I called 
it — and left you more to other hands. Before I went 



SfOULDIVO A MAIDSK. 

to Europe I told you that we should have to turn 

over a new leaf upon my return, and I have merely 
carried out that plan. And now for that, you refuse 
to go for a stroll with me, and speak and act as if I 
were the worst enemy you could have in the 
world !" 

She had relented, and the look that she gave him, 
as she raised her eyes, told him her story. 

** Why have you locked your library ?" she asked. 

He started at the question. 

" I have papers relating — to — law cases — valuable 
ones," he said, in confusion. 

" I would not hurt them," she replied, in a low 
voice. " Are you afraid I will put them in the grate 
and burn them, as I did those others so long ago ?" 

He smiled at the reminiscence, and the recollec- 
tion of it put them both into better humor. 

" I did not think on that day that you would ever 
speak to me as you have just done," he said, reproach- 
fully. 

" And I did not think you would go for days with- 
out saying more than * good-morning,' and lock 
your room so that I could not get at the books 
there." 

" In a very few days I will have that matter set- 
tled," he answered, " and I will leave the key again 
where you can find it. And now, shall we go and 
take that walk, or not ?" 

She went to get her hat and they were together 
till after the clocks had struck nine. She was very 
happy. It seemed almost like the old time come 
back again. 

Miss Steiner assumed most of the care of Rosalie 
now, but he managed to get an hour or so each day 
for their stroll. They were not exactly like the 



**TOir MUST CK> WITH Mfc* 

walks of long ago, after all. Rosalie was older, and 
the hot words she had uttered, even though they 
had been so soon ended, had had their effect. He 
walked with her as with some young lady with whom 
he must preserve reasonable dignity, and was very 
careful not to say anything that might look like 
instructing her or even giving advice, as he used to 
do. That was of the past. 

One day he happened to find Miss Steiner alone 
and he said to her : 

" When Mr. Woodstock rendered his report on 
that matter it was agreed that I was to look no fur- 
ther into it, and I intend to be true to that arrange- 
ment ; but there is one thing that I have accidentally 
learned and I think I ought to tell you." 

The haughty expression with which she had so 
long met his glances was tempered by a look of 
apprehension, as she waited for him to proceed. 

" No one else knows it," he went on, " and no one 
shall through me. You will remember that I imag- 
ined you the murderer of Rosalie's mother." 

He paused again, and the woman waited. She 
hardly seemed to breathe. 

" I know now that you did nothing of that sort," 
said Stanley, with great deliberation. " I know now 
— that Rosalie's mother — is alive !" 

Miss Steiner gzisped at the words and swooned. 
Stanley rang for assistance and helped to carry her 
to her bed. 

Then a messenger went for the doctor. 



356 MOCLDIKO ▲ MAIDSE?* 



CHAPTER XXI. 

DKATH ENTERS THE HOUSB. 

Lysle did not find Paris much altered. The group 
that gathered around the dinner-table in the Restau- 
ant de la Republique had changed some of its mem- 
bers, but the new-comers were of the same type as 
the old. The same kind of crowds thronged the 
boulevards, and ate their lunches at the usual resorts. 
Paris is a maiden who never alters her counte- 
nance. Leave her for years and she will salute you 
with as warm a kiss as if you had parted from her 
but yesterday. 

The only unpleasant thing that he found was the 
depredation in his studio, an account of which he 
wrote to Stanley. The police, who were called, 
promptly pronounced it the work of an enemy, but 
Lysle could think of no one whom he had injured. 
Investigation at the shops showed that no one had 
offered " The Sleeping Girl " for sale. The affair 
was a nine-days' wonder, and then was shelved with 
other mysteries. The injury to the second painting 
was of far more account to the artist than the pur- 
loining of fche first. He sorrowfully put the pieces 
together as carefully as he could, and set about the 
task of trying to copy it, but there were great diffi- 
culties in the way. The knife had slit through the 
features of the woman in more than one place, and 
it was not easy to reproduce them with fidelity. 

Clothilde came in from her Raincy school, rejoiced 
beyond measure ta %tt^ him again. When she found 



•XATH VKTBMM THX EOUtB. SIT 

that the picture of herself ^had been stolen, and saw 
the annoyance that it j^ave him, she had a genuine 
sorrow. She believed, as he did, that the person 
who had taken it away must have destroyed it, as it 
would be impossible to offer it for sale without pro- 
claiming the possessor a thief. She felt that she 
owed Lysle a great debt for his kindness to her, and 
after pondering a loiig time over the matter, and 
shedding some tears at the prospect, she came to him 
one day and bravely offered to submit her body to 
his brush again, that he might replace his loss. 

He was touched by the offer, and thanked her 
cordially, but he did not accept it. 

" You are very kind, Clothilde," he said, "but you 
are not the same girl now as when you posed for 
that picture. You are nine years older and the 
curves of your body must have undergone a great 
alteration." 

" I do not think I have changed as much as you 
imagine," she said, with a blush. ** It — it would take 
you only a few minutes to see.** 

But he shook his head. 

** It was a child's figure ; t know it cannot be at 
all alike.** 

** Did not M. Jouanneau or any of his pupils pre» 
serve their sketches?" she asked, in a tone of disap> 
pointment. 

" They would not do. It was not the figure alone, 
that I succeeded with. It was the beauty of the 
flesh tints." 

** But the tints cannot have changed," she expos* 
tulated. " I am sure of that. If you would only let 
me show you." 

Still he declined. And for this he had another 
reason beside the one he was willing to give her. 



MoirLDora jl maided. 

He remembered that Miss Steiner had alluded to 
him as "a painter of nude women." He wondered 
how she knew that. Surely he had never spoken on 
the subject to her. Probably, he thought, she merely 
uttered the words at random, knowing that all 
artists were so. There was no need of his doing it 
again, and he had no heart for it. The better way 
was to let the old picture go, and devote himself to 
something new and greater. 

Clothilde found it much easier to obtain a situa- 
tion such as she desired now that she had obtained 
a knowledge of music and of other accomplishments. 
She spoke English very fairly, having been taught 
by Lysle in a conversational way, and in a few days 
she was domiciled in an American household in the 
Avenue d'Eylau. 

To Lysle's intense astonishment no less a visitor 
than Mile. Suzette walked into his studio shortly 
after this occurrence. She had read in the papers of 
the robbery and the mutilation of the painting of 
which she was the model, and she came to see the 
destruction with her own eyes. 

" I suppose you have no idea who cut those holes 
in my face ?" she said, after a careful scrutiny of the 
^canvas. 

** Not the slightest," replied Lysle. ** The police 
say it must have been an enemy, but I have none 
that I know of. Perhaps it was some envicis rival, 
but there are too many artists in Paris for me tO 
guess which of them could stoop to a thina: like 
this." 

She bent upon him a look of pity for his dui.ness. 

** Ah ! How thick your head is ! It is plain to 
me as the sun. No one in the world did that but 
Ibat miserable Monsieur Peck T 



BSATB BNTBM THB HOUSE. 

** Do you think so !*' gasped the artist. 

'' Think so I I Icnow it ! I can imagine him now, 
the knife in his hand, wishing it was I instead of m 
piece of cloth." 

Then she told him that Arthur had attempted to 
kidnap Clothilde, and that she had put the police on 
his track just in time to prevent the execution of hit 
nicely formed plan. 

" But Clothilde has been here," he answered, " and 
she never said one word to me about it." 

** Of course she did not. Neither would I if I were 
in her place," laughed Suzette. " She is in love with 
you, and would not like to have you know, for fear 
you would think her somehow to blame." 

Lysle turned the color of fire, 

" She is not in love with me !" he exclaimed. 
" That is all nonsense. I have only helped her to a 
situation. I have known her from a child." 

"Oh, yes, I understand," replied the woman, 
roguishly. " You have paid her expenses at school, 
and she has been here in the house for months, and 
all from mere friendship ! You Americans are the 
queerest men, to think you can pull the wool over 
the eyes of a Parisienne. But never mind. Mon- 
sieur Peck cut up your picture, that is certain, and 
if you find him you will get your other one. He has 
not destroyed it. He has kept it to remind him of 
the beauty he could not get in person ! The wretch !** 

He also learned from her that Arthur had been 
arrested and had in some way escaped punishment, 
but that she could learn nothing since then of hit 
movements. She had now another lover, and cared 
little what had become of Peck, except that sh« 
would have been glad if he had come to harm. 

"It is easy for yoo to make up for ail the injury 



NtoiTLmiro ▲ icAiDicTr. 

he has done me in cutting this painting, * tie said, a 
bright idea striking him. *' If you will give me hall 
a dozen sittings, and pose as I tell you, I can restore 
everything. See, here is a new drawing I have 
made. I have done every part but the face quite 
well. Help me, Suzette, that's a good girl, and I 
will pay you whatever you demand." 

She laughed, for she had a mind to grant the 
request, but she wanted a little fun first. 

*' Yes, that would be very fine. But imagine me 
px^eing here some day, and Mile. Clothilde comes 
in ? I would look nice with her fingers in my hair, 
eh*' 

"U is impossible," he answered, greatly irritated. 
•* Shfc will not come, and if she did she would be 
only W?>c glad that I was restoring my lost picture." 

** Wn\ does she not pose for hers ?" was the sly 
question. " If I am to assist you to get this one 
back agam, she ought to do as much for the other." 

"I do not want the other," he said, trying to 
conceal the impatience in his tone. *' This was my 
greatest work, and the only one I care about. You, 
of all women, ought not to say ugly things about 
me. You remember, when Andr6 left you, how I — " 

"Yes," she interrupted, much touched. "I 
remember, and I will sit for you. Monsieur Lysle. 
When shall I come ?" 

In a month he had the ** The Angry Woman ** 
repainted, and critics declared that it was, if any- 
thing, a finer piece of work than the first one. 

He wrote of Suzette's suspicions to Stanley, in his 
next letter, and asked him to ascertain whether Peck 
was in America, and whether it were known that he 
had been across the sea at the time when the picture 
Was stolen. ** You are a lawyer," he said in the let- 



I^SATH ENTEBS THS HOUSB. 261 

ler, " and will know how to ascertain tliese things 
I am willing to pay all expenses of an investigation, 
if it is only to satisfy my curiosity. I cannot believe 
that Arthur would do so mean a thing, but there is 
certainly a reasonable suspicion, and it is worth look- 
ing into. I have been lucky enough to get hold of 
the model again, and my loss will be repaired as far 
as the injured painting is concerned. I do not want 
Arthur arrested or punished in any way, but if I can 
get the picture I have lost, it will please me very 
much." 

To this Stanley answered, in due course of time, 
that he had communicated with Mr. Peck, Sr., and 
had found that Arthur was, at last accounts, in the 
western part of America. He agreed with Lysle that 
it seemed impossible that he could have been guilty 
of such an outrage, but said he would do all he could 
to find him and to learn whether he had been out of 
the country. 

He added to this that Miss Steiner was very ill 
indeed, and that her physician had the gravest doubt 
that she would ever recover her full health. If she 
should grow suddenly worse he promised to write 
without delay, Rosalie, he said, was in the best of 
spirits, and sent her regards. 

The next letter Lysle received showed that Stan- 
ley's statements had been none too strong. 

Miss Steiner was dead. 

" I could have cabled to you," wrote his cousin, 
** but I thought a letter containing fuller particu- 
lars would be more satisfactory, and there was 
nothing to make it necessary that you should 
come here any sooner than you would have other- 
wise intended. While we had been led to expect 
that this would be the outcome of her illness, the 



MS ]foi]nj>iKa ▲ icAiDSi. 

dissolution was very sudden at last. Her bodj 
has been placed in the tomb at Woodlawn, awaiting 
a decision, in which you must join, as to its final 
resting-place." 

Although there had been no very warm relations 
for some time between Lysle and the deceased 
woman, he was much affected by the news, and 
decided that he would go to America as soon as he 
could make the necessary arrangements. He bade 
good-bye to Clothilde, who wept at the parting, and 
as he held her hand he wondered whether there was 
anything of truth in the guess of Suzette that she 
was in love with him. He could not believe it, and 
he felt that at least he had not encouraged her, and 
had nothing to regret in relation to all his inter- 
course with her. He made arrangements for one of 
the other lodgers in the hotel to occupy a bed in his 
room during his absence, as a precaution against 
further depredations. Then he took the train for 
Havre. 

He found a strange air pervading the rooms in the 
St. Nicholas that Miss Steiner had occupied. Noth- 
ing had as yet been disturbed, Stanley wore the 
look of a man who has passed through distressful 
experiences. Rosalie seemed frightened at the first 
touch of death that had ever come across her path 
since she could remember. 

They told him the story in hushed tones. Miss 
Steiner had known she could not recover, but had 
not supposed the end so near. She had made a will, 
leaving Rosalie what property she had. She had 
sent for Mr. Woodstock again, and confided some 
instructions to him, the nature of which had not yet 
transpired. She had wanted Rosalie to be with her 
« good deal during the last few days, and hiKi 



DSATH ENTERS THK BOUSK. MS 

Msayed many times to say something to her, but 
had never succeeded in doing so. One evening, 
when the nurse returned to her room after aa 
absence of less than five minutes, she found her lying 
in her last sleep. The end had undoubtedly been 
one of peace. 

Stanley told most of these things. Rosalie was 
too much affected to say anything without tears. 

•* What shall we do about our ward ?" asked 
Stanley, the next morning, when Lysle came into 
his oflSce for a consultation. *' She cannot live at the 
hotel much longer." 

" I have been thinking of that," said Lysle. " I 
suppose the only choice is between hiring a 
thoroughly competent, motherly woman to take 
charge of her, and sending her to a boarding- 
schooL" 

" Exactly," was the response. " Now I am head 
over ears in business — have so much to do, in fact^ 
that I hardly know which way to turn — and I wish 
you and Rosalie would settle that matter between 
you.*' 

Lysle was much surprised at the proposition, but 
after a little further talk he agreed to it. 

** There are many good schools," pursued Stanley, 
thoughtfully. '* I suppose the best of them are on 
the other side of the water, though." 
1 *' At Paris !" gasped his cousin. 

" Not necessarily at Paris. There are splendid 

ones in the neighborhood of London, I have been 

p told. I do not make any suggestion, but if you 

thought it best to take her there it would be a 

change. She has been gloomy here ever since Janet's 

fc —since Miss Steiner's — death." 



984 iKomimsa ▲ maidin. 

It was so strange that Stanley should propose this, 
that Lysle hardly knew what to say. 

" And now about the burial," continued the 
lawyer, with the manner of a man whose time is 
precious. " What do you say about that ?" 

"I do not know," was the answer. "She 
e:ipressed no sentiment on the matter, herself, that 
you know of ?" 

•* No, she said nothing." 

** Perhaps she confided something to Woodstock, 
in her conferences with him." 

*• It may be," replied Stanley. ** We can find out 
in a minute. His office is just over the way." He 
touched a bell. " Atweli," he said to a clerk who 
appeared, *' run over to Woodstock's, and ask him if 
he can meet us here for a few minutes." 

The lawyer turned to a pile of papers that lay 
before him and seemingly lost himself in them at 
once. The artist wondered at a brain that could go 
so easily from one subject to another, and could not 
help admiring his talented cousin, whose name stood 
for so much at the Bar and on the Street of that 
great city. He mentally contrasted his own accom- 
plishments with those of Stanley, and thought the 
painting of a few pictures of merit was a small thing 
to have accomplished in such a busy world. Still 
he knew that each had followed the profession for 
which he was best adapted, and art and beauty had 
its place as well as stocks, bonds and legal docu> 
ments. 

Woodstock came in a few minutes. He was quite 
grave, Stanley questioned him in relation to his 
conversations with Miss Steiner during her last ill- 
Mcss, but found that he had nothing to disclose. 

**'W€ were discussing — Ly»le and I — tJie question 



niAXB SSTBBS THE EOUSB. 

wi wfattPt tilt rilOOld be interred," explained Stanley. 
* It occurred to us that you might have gained 
some knowledge of her preference on the subject- 
something that would guide us in selecting the 
spot." 

Woodstock shook his head in the negative. 

•* Any one of the cemeteries about here will do,** 
he said. 
I Stanley looked at him attentively. 

"You would not suggest taking the body to 
Europe .''" 
I " Why to Europe ?" asked the other, returning the 

* gaze imperturbably. 

** She lived there for years, you know." 

** Yes, and she lived here for years." 

** She had friends there." 

"And here also. I should think America the 
place, by all means." 

He rose to go, remarking that he had an engage- 
ment, and Lysle walked out with him. At the exit 
they encountered Dudley Morgan, whom they were 
both pleased to greet. He had been for a long time 
now in Stanley's employ, but his duties were mainly 
indoors, and Woodstock saw hira but seldom. After 
a few minutes' talk, the trio separated ; but Lysle 
had not gone far when he felt a hand on his arm, 
and Dudley was with him again. 

** Are you going to stay in the country long ?" was 
his question. 

" I don't exactly know," said Lysle, thinking of the 
London school proposition. 

"I wanted to see you and have a good long talk 
before you went," said Dudley, rather confused. 

"About anything in particular ? I am liable to go 
very suddenly. How are you getting along with 



too maiawan ▲ lumss. 

8unl«y f You seem to have suited eadi other, ju^ 

lag by the length of time you stay. And you art 
now a full-fledged member of the bar, I believe f* 

** Yes," replied Morgan. He hesitated, as if uncer* 
tain what to say. " I wanted to ask your opinion on 
something, Lysle. If — if a man is trusted by another, 
and in that way learns secrets that are to the injurjf 
of a third party, is it his duty to reveal them, or 
should he keep them sacred ?" 

Lysle had never had a thing like this to think o^ 
and he answered in an off-hand way : 

"I should say it would be very mean of him to 
betray the man who trusted him/' 

"Even if the other man was betraying those who 
trusted in Aim V* asked Morgan, eagerly. 

** Yes," said Lysle, " that is not his affair. ** I 
think of all men I most despise a tell-tale." 

Morgan winced at this, and seemed disappointed, 
and after a moment longer he said good-bye and 
walked thoughtfully away. As for Lysle, he had 
forgotten the question ten minutes later, and it was 
a long time after that he remembered it and under* 
stood its significance. 

Rosalie was doubtful about going to Europe, but 
agreed to it instantly when Lysle told her that Stan- 
ley had suggested it. The rooms in the St. Nicholas 
were given up, and preparations were made for 
departure. Lisa waft to accompany the travelers on 
her way back to her native France. 

There was a good deal of hurry in the good-bye 
that Stanley gave them. He told Rosalie that she 
must write, and be able to give a good account of 
herself. He looked terribly haggard, like a man 
who sleeps badly, and Lysle warned him that he was 
working too hard. 



UKs ▲ &WEWT nmJsiniL ^0t 

As they were entering their carriage his eyes met 
Rosalie's. There was such pain in his gaze that 
she would have gone to him in a moment more and 
thrown her arms about his neck. But even as sht 
hesitated, he disappeared in the crowd, and the cas- 
riage wound its way through the streets to the 
steamer. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

LIKE A SWEET DELIRIUM. 

The crossing of the ocean occupied nine days. 
Rosalie was too strong physically to feel any- 
thing like sea-sickness, and Lysle had long since 
passed that unpleasant experience of the traveler by 
steamer. But the girl was clearly dejected during 
the first few days out. It was the only time she had 
ever taken such a long leave of Stanley, and Lysle 
was observant enough to know that she felt the 
parting very much indeed. 

He wondered, as he paced the deck, what had 
made Stanley come to the opinion that a foreign 
journey was best for her. It did not seem like him 
to be willing to sacrifice his own pleasure in this way. 
Though there had been times when he had appar- 
ently neglected Rosalie — notably the long weeks that 
followed his return from Heidelberg — this had been 
compensated for by subsequent events. It was very 
strange that he should be willing to spare her now 
at a time whe» there was no visible estrangement 
between them. Lysle studied over this problem, and 
finally gare it up. It was too de«p for him. 



268 MouiJ>iN& ▲ 



As they neared Liverpool Rosalie brightened, 
felt that joy at the prospect of setting foot on foreigft 
soil that most of us know so well. She realised that 
she would be much freer than she had ever been, 
with Lysle for her only present guardian, and that 
she would be permitted to do about as she pleased 
when she reached shore. There is something in the 
heart of a girl of fourteen that makes her long for 
liberty — even as the bird in its cage — and^ often the 
freedom gained is of no more service than it is to the 
innocent little songster. Rosalie knew that she could 
manage Lysle, and she felt as if the horizon had 
widened before her. 

The result showed that she had not mistaken her 
forecast. When they reached London she requested 
him not to go to any of the institutions of learning 
which he had planned to visit, until they had 
thoroughly enjoyed the sights. 

A fortnight later, when this had been accom* 
plished, she wanted to run over to Paris with him, 
and see the "most beautiful city in the world," as he 
was in the habit of describing it to her, before she 
settled down to study. Her wish was law, and with 
Lisa still in the party, they crossed the Channel and 
took up their residence in the Avenue de I'Alma, 
from whence he showed her the attractions to her 
heart's content for the next month. But when he 
urged that it was time for another term of the 
English seminaries to begin, she showed no inclina« 
tion to hasten there. 

" I have studied, studied, all ray life," she said, 
•• and now I want a good long vacation. If you 
think it necessary, I will take special lessons here 
from private teachers, but I do not wiib to tto 



LIKE A S'nrEET DELIBIUK. 96f 

myself down yet to any routine such as that of a 
boarding school." 

"I was thinking," he replied, doubtfully, "that 
Stanley — ' 

She tossed her head, though her eyes drooped. 

" He has nothing to do with it. He sent us over 
here, and now he must let us use our own judgment. 
And we have decided that I am not going to any 
English school at present," 

He was very willing to be convinced, though he 
had his doubts whether this would suit his punc- 
tilious cousin, and he met her statement with 
silence. 

"It is nice enough ior you to send me into a 
strange city, where I do not know a soul," she went 
on, " but for me^ who have never spent an hour away 
from one or the other of my relations, it is very 
disagreeable. I will take music and painting, if you 
care to have me, and anything else in reason, but it 
must be here in Paris, where you are. I know I 
am a big girl, but there are times when I feel as if I 
were only a baby." 

Where he was ! That was enough to turn the tide 
in Lysle's mind. He decided that she should stay 
in Paris, and sent for Clothilde to live with her as a 
sort of chaperone. He engaged several professors 
in the branches she suggested, who were to come to 
the house on specified days. He hired rooms for 
himself in the same building, where he could be 
near enough and yet not too near to his ward. He 
rode out with her — and Clothilde, always with 
Clothilde — and made arrangements for furniture 
and cooks and all sorts of things, like a veritable 
man of affairs. And he was quite delighted, when 
be had written candidly of the matter to Stanley, to 



STO IfOULDINO A MAIDEN. 

receive a letter in reply expressing the conv^ctios 
that he had acted wisely, and that the new scheme 
would be much better for Rosalie than the one first 
suggested. 

Lysle went back to his studio happier than he had 
ever been. His brush seemed to feel the impulse 
of his quickened pulse* and he began another series 
of paintings superior to anything he had yet done. 
Rosalie sometimes came over to visit him, and then 
— only then — his hand failed to answer the rudder 
of his brain. He was greatly afraid of her criticism, 
which she showered freely on his work, judging 
things entirely by fancy and not by any standard of 
art, for she had none. Once he threw aside a sketch 
of which he had had great hopes, because she pro- 
nounced it disagreeable ; and another that he was 
on the point of rejecting as too artificial, he finished 
with the greatest care merely because she expressed 
a liking for it. 

Of course she wanted to ride in the Bois, and he 
Dought two fine saddle-horses and went out with 
her every morning. He could not ride as well a> 
s^" hut he liked the exercise, and kept up with her 
fairly well. Clothilde could not follow them on 
these excursions, but she went in a carriage with 
them, and waited till they returned to the entrance, 
where they resigned their saddle-horses to a waiting 
groom. One day Rosalie saw for sale two magnifi- 
cent dogs, weighing about a hundred pounds each, 
and insisted upon buying them. After that they gal- 
loped wlih the great brutes at their heels, and some- 
times, wnen she walked instead, she led them by a 
tether, and attracted the attention of everybody who 
met her, by the strength of arm which she showed 
when they tried to break from her hold. 



UKS A SWKET jmusiuu, ifTt 

Ljrsle painted her picture with these two dogs, at 
her own request. He would not have dared sug- 
gest it, having felt a delicacy since that day when 
she accused him of caring for her only as a model. 
It was but a litfle while before she became one of 
the sights of the Bois, which people used to point 
out to each other. 

Clothilde did the best she could, but he soon 
found that he ought to get another companion for 
Rosalie, one nearer her station in life. He suc- 
ceeded, by good luck, in engaging the widow of a 
French army officer, a lady of the greatest refine- 
ment, who had met with reverses that compelled her 
to do something to eke out her small income. 
Mme. Fleury was not more than thirty years of 
age, and had a beauty of face and figure that had 
once been considered worthy of remark. She was 
not sorry to accept the charge of the comfortable 
establishment in the Avenue de I'Alma, where she 
was nearly as independent as if she had been its real 
proprietor, and to guide the steps of such a bright 
young girl as she found Rosalie to be. Mme. 
Fleury had been through one of the best schools in 
France, and was most highly accomplished. She 
told Lysle, with a significant look of her dark eyes, 
that it was quite as well that he had decided to have 
his ward taught by private teachers at her own 
home. She had nothing to say against the average 
boarding school, as indeed she ought out, being a 
graduate of one of them, but — !! She shrugged her 
shoulders in a way that might have meant a good 
deal, and Lysle felt as if he had escaped a real 
danger for the girl in whose welfare he had so deep 
an interest. 

Rosalie took kindly to her new governess. Mme. 



872 MOULDma ▲ kaidev. 

Fleury made some changes in the studies which hef 

charge was taking, after due deliberation and a care- 
ful estimate of her tendencies in various directions, 
but she did not neglect her health. She was a good 
horseback rider herself, and another animal was 
soon added to the number that Lysle had purchased 
for her use. She never made the mistake of 
attempting to order or domineer in any way, but 
succeeded in accomplishing all that she sought by 
the mildest methods. Within a^very brief time, 
Rosalie came to regard her more as a sister than as 
a superior authority. All these things Lysle related 
in his letters to Stanley, having a conscientious 
notion that it was his duty to tell him everything, 
and the answers that came — infrequent and very 
terse — always expressed satisfaction at the news, and 
confidence in the judgment of the sender. 

Rosalie occasionally received letters from Stanley, 
too, but they always made her very pensive, and 
Lysle used to wonder what was in them that could 
have this effect. He wished that things were in 
better shape between his ward and his cousin. 
There was a mystery there that he could not 
fathom, and it gave him as much pain as it did her. 
In fact anything that hurt Rosalie hurt him 
also. 

Two whole years went by in this way. The life 
at the house in the Avenue de 1* Aima changed very 
little as the months passed. Lysle lived partly in 
his studio rooms and partly in the hotel, but he 
nearly always dined with his ward and Mme. Fleury. 
He very seldom saw Rosalie alone. Once a week he 
had an hour or so of chat with her governess on 
business matters, and there was never any disagree- 
ment between them. He was well satisfied with the 



LIKB A 8WEST OBLUUUM. 373 

way things were going. Rosalie was rapidly becom- 
ing a skillful musician, and she had acquired many 
other things that made her better fitted for the place 
'in life that she was intended to adorn. Lysle was 
forever congratulating himself on his good luck in 
securing so good a chaperone for her, and in having 
her so near him in his best-loved city. 

One thing is worthy of mention, as showing an 
odd phase of the mind of the artist. He had never 
sent to Stanley an account of Rosalie's expenses, 
nor drawn upon him for any sum of money what- 
ever on her account. Neither had his cousin, in all 
this time, sent anything to him, or inquired into his 
silence on the subject. Lysle knew that Rosalie 
would inherit a large fortune when she came of age, 
and he had a dim idea that he should then render 
his statement, which he kept with scrupulous exact* 
ness. As he believed it his duty to send in a request 
if he wanted money, and not Stanley's to offer it 
unasked, he felt no surprise that it was never men- 
tioned in any of the letters which he received from 
the lawyer. There was an occasional intimation 
from Stanley that he might pay his cousins a visit 
in the not distant future, and Lysle used to say to 
himself that he probably intended to settle the 
matter at that time. 

All of Lysle's property was in easily convertible 
securities, and whenever he needed more than his 
ordinary income he was in the habit of going to his 
brokers and parting with a piece of stock or a bond 
at the market rate. As for Rosalie, she had never 
thought anything about it, and had only an indis- 
tinct idea that she had plenty of money, and that if 
she wanted anything all she need do was to ask 



S74 MOULDINa A MAIDSN. 

There was but one thing in relation to her charf^ 
that troubled Mme. Fleury, and that was her dispo- 
sition in regard to dress. Rosalie had never learned 
to care for pretty things. There was always a con- 
test — a good-natured one, to be sure — whenever a 
dressmaker or milliner or boot-maker had to be con- 
sulted. The woman used to have talks with Lysle 
about this trait of his ward, but he was as much at a 
loss as she how to remedy it. 

" I really hate to take her to a theatre or any 
^milar place," Mme. Fleury would say. " She is a 
handsome girl, and attracts attention, but I can over- 
hear the comments of the ladies in relation to her 
garments. If there were any way she could be 
induced to change — " 

And Lysle would answer helplessly : 

** If there were any way !" 

The way came, quite unexpectedly, through the 
arousing in the girl's mind of one of the most 
unlovely of her attributes. While passing down the 
stairs of her hotel to the street, one afternoon, she 
overheard a young girl of about her own age make 
these remarks to another who lived on the floor 
above : 

" I think that Mile. Vandenhoff the dowdiest thing 
I ever saw ! She puts on a good deal of airs with 
her saddle-horses and her carriages, but she wears 
the most frightful clothes I ever knew a girl to have. 
I have sometimes thought of taking up a subscrip* 
tion to buy her something decent." 

The loud laugh that followed showed that the joke 
was appreciated. Rosalie was going out to ride with 
Mme, Fleury. When she wa» seated in her carriage, 
she turned a very white face to her governess, 

** You heard ?" she said, laconi«ihy. 



LIKE A SWEET DELIKIVII. 37S~ 

* Yes," replied Mme. Fleury. 

" Is it true ?" 

Mme. Fleury hesitated. 

" Do I wear the most frightful clothes you ever 
saw r 

The girl was much excited, but it was an oppor- 
tunity that the Frenchwoman thought she ought to 
take advantage of. 

" You do not follow the styles very closely," she 
said. " I think, to be candid, that many people notice 
it." 

" But I Aafi the styles !" broke forth the girl, 
passionately. " They are not comfortable, and they 
are not becoming ! Is it necessary to wear every 
style that some nobody may invent in order to keep 
from being insulted ! And she said I could not 
afford better things ! I ! I who have a large 
fortune and can spend any sum I please ! Not 
afford it, indeed !" 

Mme. Fleury had never seen her angry before. 
It was only once in a year or two that Rosalie's 
temper got the best of her. 

" M. Lysle has spoken to me about it several 
times," pursued the woman, thinking it wise to 
clinch the nail if she could. 

" He should have spoken to me" said Rosalie, 
regretfully. " What did he say ?" 

" He only said that he should be glad if you would 
conform a little nearer in your dress to the customs 
of the people with whom you will by-and-by have to 
associate. I think he would like it, too, if you 
would take lessons of a dancing-master." 

** Ah, but that seems so silly !" cried the girL " To 
tuftice, and bow, and turn about like a marionette \ 
I was not brought up to do those things. I can 



fit MOULDINO A MAIDEN. 

swim, ride, shoot or climb better than any of thes« 
dainty women who afifect to be so much better than 
L Why should my inability to dance, or my aver- 
sion to wearing nonsensical clothes make them con- 
sider me their inferior ?" 

Mme. Fleury tried to explain to her that while 
these things did not make her less worthy than 
other girls they did cause her to be remarked upon, 
and that it would be wise, in her opinion, if she 
were to add the other accomplishments to those 
which she already had, and which were, without 
doubt, all right in their place. 

Mme. Fleury, Lysle and Rosalie occupied a box at 
the Opera, shortly after, while one of the great balls 
of the season was in progress. They were well 
secured from special observation by the curtains 
that hung across the front of the box, but Rosalie 
could see the merry groups of dancers that covered 
the vast floor, and with her glass distinguish the ele- 
gant costumes worn by the ladies. As the music gave 
forth its bewitching strains, and the gay spectacle 
was at its height, the bosom of the young girl rose 
and fell with rapidity. She was experiencing an 
entirely novel sensation. Here was something that 
she had missed in the drama of life — something, too, 
that appealed to her sense of rhythm and beauty. It 
no longer seemed silly — this moving to the sound of 
that orchestra — it seemed like a sweet delirium 
She heartily wished that she were one of that gallant 
array, and turned from the sight with regretful eyes 
when her friends said it was time to depart. 

" Did you like it ?" asked Lysle, doubtfully, for he 
feared very much to hear her answer in the negative. 
He had brought her in the hope that the effoct would 



UKS ▲ 8WBBT DBLUtlUM. 9T7 

be good» but she had been so still all the evening 

that he could only form a vague notion about iL 
" Yes," she responded softly. ** I do like it. I wUl 

go to the dancing-master's to-morrow.** 

" Not quite as soon as that," smiled Mme. Fleuiy, 
"You will have to have some suitable gowns 
first." 

"I will wear them," said Rosalie, with meekness. 
** As many as you like, and as soon as they can be 
made." 

Mme. Fleury and Lysle exchanged significant 
glances. It had all been accomplished so easily. 
Rosalie did not look up. She was thinking what that 
girl on the stairs would say when she met her in a 
dress much finer than any she had ever owned. 

The new dresses were made and the dancing les* 
sons begun. In this as in everything else, the girl 
proved an apt pupil. But suddenly she developed a 
love of fine garments that was nothing short of a 
craze. She wanted everything that she saw in the 
shops, and Mme. Fleury, becoming alarmed, had 
another conference with her guardian. 

" You must give me a limit," she said. " Rosalie 
is like a starved child now, and wants the most costly 
things. I am willing to go as far as you direct, for I 
never saw a girl whom fine clothes were more becom- 
ing to, but the limit is for you to set." 

" There is no limit," replied Lysle, with a bright 
light in his eyes. And he went down to his brokers', 
with anther bond fo** ^hem to selL 



S78 mocuamt 4, ivntmaBi. 



CHAPTER XXIIL 
••c'est gaie, n'est pas I'* 

The rage that Rosalie had suddenly conceired f©r 
•legant attire led her into extravagancies in all 
directions. Her only active guardian found that 
this young person could dispose of more money in 
one year than he had ever needed for himself in 
six. She had no idea of the value of gold and silver. 
She knew that she was heiress to a large fortune, 
and that she was coming one of these days into 
undisputed possession of vast sums. She never 
troubled her head about figures. Up to the hour 
when she looked down on the dazzling throng at 
the Opera ball, she had not cared for anything that 
could be called expensive. The matter of cost had 
had nothing to do with the question. Comfort 
and convenience had influenced all of her selections 
in the way of clothing. She had been a mere child in 
most things until that moment, as indeed she still 
was in nearly everything else. The fancy that she 
took for silks, satins, velvets and laces, partook 
almost as much of the child's nature as it did of the 
budding woman that was developing in her. 

Mme. Fleury did not believe it wise to indulge her 
in all the wild notions that she conceived, but she 
well understood that it was not part of her business 
to tell Monsieur Lysle his duty in a matter like 
that. Whenever she hinted to him — and the hints 
were very gentle things — that Rosalie was spending 
• great deal more moaey than was good for a girl oi 



•cfatr ©ATE, s'ebt par?' S79 

her age, his only reply was that she must have 
whatever she wanted. He knew no pleasure so 
great as to sit in her parlor and have the girl bring 
her newest garments to him, or the fabrics from 
which they were to be made, and catch the sparkle 
of her pretty eyes as she gloated over the beauty 
of the materials, or the fineness of the workmanship. 

There was nothing that she did not show him — 
for what was Lysle but a dear, good fellow before 
whom nobody could think of prudery ? She brought 
him her new hosiery, tinted with the shades of the 
noonday sky or the early dawn, and told him to see 
what bargains she had bought at thirty francs the 
pair. She exhibited the high-heeled boots she had 
so recently despised, and called his attention to the 
fact that her foot had not grown too big in the old 
common-sense shoes, as one might have supposed it 
would have been sure to do. She showed him gar- 
ters with jewelled monograms, with as much non- 
chalance as if she were an infant of four years. She 
developed a perfect rage for hats, and tried on one 
after another before him that he might pass judg- 
ment on their relatively becoming qualities. There 
were gowns innumerable, cloaks of all kinds, and an 
endless variety of other things that she would not 
rest content until he had seen and approved. And 
he looked at them all, and said they were very beau- 
tiful and very becoming, and that they certainly 
were marvels of cheapness. And he never saw one 
of them distinctly, because his entire vision was filled 
with Rosalie herself. 

Used as she was to having her own way in every- 
thing, the young girl bade fair to go as far to one 
extreme as she had to the other, and Mme. Fleury 
««uld not help wishing there were some feasible way 



itO aocLDnrd a katobst. 

to control her. Though but sixteen years of agt, 
she had the figure of a girl of eighteen, at least, and 
she conceived a fondness for low-cut gowns and 
short sleeves that was almost terrifying. She 
seemed to feel that she had left her girlhood far 
behind, with her outlandish garments of the former 
era, and she wanted to plunge at one swoop into the 
** full dress '* of women five years or more her senior. 
There were distressed moments for her chaperone 
when the question of a bit more or less of lace in the 
corsage seemed of the first importance, and it was 
hard to tell who would win the day. Rosalie had a 
most lovely neck and shoulders, and her discovery 
that this was so had been followed by a mad anxiety 
to utilize these charms with all possible speed. 

** You cannot wear that dress cut so low without 
exciting unpleasant remark," said Madame Fleury. 
** You will meet no girl of your age with anything 
like it." 

" I am nearly seventeen," retorted Rosalie, *' and 
the dressmaker said I could pass for eighteen with 
no trouble. I never looked as pretty as I do in this 
bodice. I am going to show it to Lysle, when ha 
comes, and see if he doesn't agree with me." 

Madame Fleury grew desperate. 

*'I cannot imagine a costume that Monsieur LysU 
would not declare suitable to you if he knew yon 
wanted to wear it," she said. 

Rosalie took a long look at herself in the glass. 

** Can't you ?" she said, softly. " / can." 

** But it is not a question for a gentleraan tm 
decide," persisted Mme. Fleury. "I know that ii 
would be considered unbecoming — ** 

** Oh, surely it is not that !" cried the girl, inter* 
^ rupting her. 



*(fB8T GAIK, n'eST PAS?* 981 

•*It would be considered unsuitable for you by 
every lady who would see it. The object of dressing 
is certainly not to excite unfavorable remark. I am 
not sure I should be willing to go to the theatre with 
you in that dressy if it is to be cut as low as you have 
planned.'* 

Rosalie still eyed her shoulders in the mirror. 

"Oh, well, Clothilde would go," she said. "But 
you wear your dress as low as this, and I am sure it 
looks very well on you." 

" Recollect," was the reply, " that I am a few years 
older than you." 

" That is the worst of it !*' cried the girl. " I have 
waited so long to be somebody ! Well, I suppose we 
shall have to put in a lot of lace." 

" It is a little too low even for the lace," said Mme. 
Fleury. '• Let me show you." She arose and began 
to put in the pins. " There, that is the very lowest 
it ought to be, and I should make it at least an inch 
higher if I followed my judgment." 

They arrived at a compromise, finally, and the 
dress was finished. The evening that it was to be 
worn for the first time Rosalie came in to dinner with 
it on, as they were to occupy a box at the Porte St. 
Martin. Used as her guardian was to her changed 
appearance of late, he started to his feet in sheer 
astonishment when the new vision met his eyes. 

Stanley had felt that Miss Steiner had taken away 
his child by the mere lengthening of a skirt. Lysle 
thought Mme. Fleury had substituted a grown 
woman for his late ward, and all by deepening the 
cut of a bodice. 

'* How do you like it ?" demanded FosaKe witii « 
saucy toss of her head. 



SftS MouiDma a matdtw. 

His heart beat too rapidly and his breath caoM 
too short for intelligible speech. 

"C'cstgaie, n'est pas ?" she cried, going to him, 
and encircling his neck with one of her half-bare 
arms. She wanted very much that he should take 
her side against Mme. Fleury. "Say that you like 
it, dear I Say that you like it !" she cried, coax* 
ingly. 

She had never put her arms about his neck before, 
nor given him any endearment that approached it. 
Nor had she ever called him by that epithet. 

" You will paint my portrait in it, will you not ?" 
she went on, with vivacity. " You have me as a 
little child, as a young person, and as a girl with 
dogs and a horse. This will complete the list. I 
am now a woman. Did you know that, Lysle, a 
woman ! Am I not tall ? And handsome ? You do 
not answer me. Is it, then, that you do not like it, 
after all? I will take it off immediately." 

She began as if to remove the garment, but he 
found his voice. 

*' It is very pretty," he said. " I — I was confused. 
I did not expect it." 

She danced about the room in glee. 

*' Are you in earnest }" she asked. " For you 
know I would not wear anything of which you did 
not fully approve. It is not cut too low, do you 
think ? What do you suppose Mme, Fleury said ? 
That you would declare anything becoming if you 
knew I wanted to wear it ! You would not do that, 
would you, Lysle } You are a good judge of ladies' 
attire, are you not ?" 

He hardly heard her. He was thinking what if 
Stanley should open that door and see her thus ! 
Be felt that his complaisant cousin would prot«0t 



«cfsaT OAXE, n'xsr p^P SM 

loudly against the freedom that his ward was allowed. 
But for himself, he did not know how to say **no* 
to her. If she was happy, it was all he cared. 

Madame Fleury came in at this moment 

** He likes it !" exclaimed Rosalie, before her gor* 
crness could speak. " He says it is very chic^ and 
that I am charming in it !" 

The Frenchwoman had taken in the expression 
on the face of the young guardian at the same time 
that she heard these words. She knew that he 
would have preferred a more extensive covering to 
those shoulders, and she wondered what he would 
have thought had the dress been finished after the 
pattern that the girl had selected. But she had the 
wisdom to smile on both simultaneously, and to 
remark that no one would question the judgment of 
Monsieur Lysle. 

The menu had no charms for the artist. He saw 
nothing but his ward, and yet he avoided looking at 
her as he had never done before. He thought of 
the sittings she was to give him, in that costume, 
for he intended fully to accede to her request at the 
earliest opportunity. What a magnificent picture 
she would make ! What a bud of just opening 
womanhood, a maiden standing at the threshold of 
the fuller life ! For she was still a child, in spite of 
all her trappings ; a child clad in the garments of 
one of her elders, delighted with the effect of the 
unaccustomed display. 

Yes, she was a child, a child to be guarded more 
than ever, now that she stood so near the opea 
portal. 

Another year passed, and in February a grand 
masqued ball occurred. As many of the young 
acquaintances that Rosalie had made at the dances 



XOITLDINQ A MAIDEN. 

which she now frequented, were going, she per* 
suaded Mme. Fleury that she ought to go also 
Lysle purchased a box, and bought costumes for 
all three of them, as they thought it best to be on 
the floor if Rosalie was to dance, as she seemed 
determined to do. The dancing-school which she 
attended was one of the most select in Paris, and the 
young people there were of the very highest class. 
Special preparations were made for this occasion, 
which drew heavily on the finances of her guardian, 
but as usual he uttered no protest. She had of late 
taken a fancy to jewelry, and many thousand francs 
went to purchase diamonds. 

Lysle danced once with Rosalie, and then they 
all got mixed up in the tumult. Some of her 
young friends carried her away, and when she next 
found herself holding a conversation it was with a 
man hidden like the others behind a mask, but call- 
ing her by name, and professing to have known 
her for a long time. 

" You do not recollect my voice," said the figure, 
•* but I will prove to you that I know all about you. 
Your cousin Stanley, in New York, has lately 
declined to come to Paris on the ground that he has 
not the time to spare." 

He had mentioned the one word that could have 
kept her talking with him ; for, young and unsophis- 
ticated as she was in the ways of the social set, she 
did not think it a good thing to have too much to 
say to a person whose identity she could not discern. 

" Have you, then, seen my cousin lately ?" sh« 
asked. 

** Less than three weeks ago.** 

"Is he well?" 

** No. He is growing old and very gray. Yo« 



^(fmr oAiBy n'est pas?* 981 

would hardly know him. He has a world of troublt 

on his mind." 

She was fastened to his side now with hooks of 
steel. 

** Tell me more," she said, " since it is evident that 
you can do so." 

" Not to-night. This is no time or place. If you 
will meet me to-morrow at — let me see, shall you 
ride in the Bois ?" 

" In the afternoon, yes ; at four o'clock.** 

*' Alone ?•• 

" Except my maid." 

He muttered " Diable !'* beneath his breath. 

" It will not do. I cannot tell you anything unless 
you are entirely alone." 

She wanted to know why, but there was no time 
for a long parley. 

" I will bring my maid," she said, ** but I will leave 
her in the carriage and come on foot into the Avenue 
of the Roses. If you are there I will talk to you." 

He consented to this, after some hesitation, and 
left her. 

" Who was that with whom you were talking V* 
asked Lysle, a few moments later, for he had spied 
the mask and failed to recognize him as one of those 
who had hitherto been paying court to Rosalie. 

" He said he was an American," was her reply, 
* and that he knew Stanley." 

Lysle did not fancy this, and determined to have 
an eye kept on the man. He judged from the reti- 
cence which Rosalie showed that there had been 
something to the conversation of more moment than 
this mere announcement. He had no intention of 
catechizing her, and he doubted his ability to do it 
successfully, in case there were anything which she 



916 MOULDIHa A. MAIDKSr. 

did not wish to r&veal. But he knew there wert 
ways in Paris to discover things, and he put one of 
them in practice. Before he left the ball he arranged 
with a detective to follow the strange American 
and report what he could learn of him. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

ARTHUR peck's REVEMGK. 

The next mopning Rosalie repented of the agree- 
ment she had made to meet the strange man in the 
Avenue of the Roses. She began to think that it 
was a decidedly improper step to take, and she could 
see no reason for this secrecy upon a matter which 
ought apparently to be entirely above board. Lysle 
had slept at the hotel, and like herself rose late. He 
came in to see how she had passed the night, and 
she told him all about the matter, with perfect 
freedom. 

"You remember the man who was talking to me 
last night, Lysle ; the one you asked about, and 
whom I said claimed to be an American ?" 

"Yes," he replied, with a slight start. He won- 
dered what report his detective would bring in relsi- 
tion to him. 

" I promised to meet him in the Bois this after- 
noon," she proceeded, in the most matter-of-fact 
way, " and — " 

He sprang from his chair as if to ward off from 
her some vital danger. 



AjBTHUjs peck's BsyatiaB. 987 

" Promised to meet him !" he repeated, almott 
with a scream. 

" Why, yes, only in one of the avenues,*' she replied, 
shocked at the effect the announcement had had upoa 
him, and not at all comprehending the reason. " He 
said he had seen Stanley three weeks ago," she pro- 
ceeded, in explanation, "and wanted to tell me 
something about him which there was not time to 
tell at the ball. I said I would meet him there at 
four to-day, but I have changed my mind. I shall 
send Clothilde instead, to say that I do not think it 
quite proper." 

Never had he felt so thoroughly how inadequate 
he was to carry out the part he had assumed, how 
totally incompetent to guide these young feet in the 
path they ought to tread. 

" I am surprised," he began, with all the dignity 
that he could summon, " to hear that you thought 
even for an instant of doing such a rash thing. Do 
you not know that a young girl must not speak to a 
gentleman under any circumstances without a 
formal introduction ?" 

She laughed at his earnestness. 

" He addressed me first, you will remember, and 
it was introduction enough when he spoke the name 
of Stanley, And what do you think he said, Lysle ? 
That Stanley was looking very old, and that his hair 
had turned gray !" 

The sweet voice faltered and the laugh around her 
mouth gave way to a tremor, while tears fell from 
bar eyes. If there was anything needed to complete 
the demoralization of her young guardian, this was 
sufficient. 

•* We ought to go over and see him," she went on, 
when she recovered herself a little. " I have thought 



S88 HDULDINQ A KAIDEN. 

of it for a long time. It seems cruel to neglect him as 
we have been doing. He is too busy with his thousand 
affairs to come here, but there is no reason why we 
cannot pay him a visit. I am really ashamed that I 
have neglected to tell you how I felt, but I have 
hoped that he would soon find time to come to 
Europe. We shall go to see him, Lysle, shall we 
not ?" 

He assented without a word of opposition, as he 
would had she asked to go to Kamschatka. But 
he thought he must summon courage to talk to her 
a little longer about the reckless promise she had 
made to meet the stranger. 

" You will never make such an agreement as that 
again, will you ?" he said. " It would have distressed 
me beyond measure had you carried it out. I do 
not know how to state the case as strongly as I 
(eel it." 

She came over and put her hand on his mouth. 

" There ! I didn't do it, and there is no more to 
be said. Clothilde will go and tell him why I did 
■ot come. If we are going to America we can soon 
find out all he could have told me. When shall we 
start 1 I hope we shall lose no time. I shall have 
to get very few things. We shall not need to take 
Mme. Fleury. Probably we shall return in six 
Weeks. Shall we write him that we are coming ? 
No, it will be nicer to surprise him, don't you think 

BO?" 

And thus she rattled on for an hour, until she had 
him in a state of complete mental confusion, con- 
senting to every point she wished, no matter what, 
M he always did. 

" But there is to be a change, Miss Madame 
Rosalie," he said, apologetically, to himself as he 



4r4lk«d down the street " Stanley wiV take hold of 
you again, and you will not pull ttie wool over his 
eyes so easily !" 

The detective whom he had hired met him by 
appointment at his studio, at noon, and reported 
that the American was registered at his hotel by th« 
name of Blake, with no occupation, and had, as he 
claimed, recently arrived in France on a sight-seeing 
tou". Lysle then confided to the man the fact that 
Blake was to be in the Bois that afternoon by 
appointment, and that Clothilde was to be commis* 
sioned to meet him there. After further convers?- 
tion it was arranged that both Lysle and the detec 
tive were to shadow Clothilde and discover, if they 
could, whether the stranger had any sinister designs 
in view when he made the meeting with Rosalie. 

Clothilde prepared to carry out the directions of 
her mistress. She went in the carriage to the Bois, 
and left it near the Avenue of the Roses, down which 
she walked slowly on foot. She wore a veil, and the 
American, who was watching for her mistress, 
stepped out from the trees that bordered the path, 
and came toward her, never doubting for a moment 
that she was the one he sought. Clothilde saw that 
he was about to speak to her, and at the san.j 
Instant she recognized his face wi^^h a great thrill oi 
fear. 

*' Monsieur Villemsen !** she cried, In a faint voices 
ihrowing up her veil. 

Arthur Peck looked as disgusted as it is possible 
to imagine, when he saw the fair Rosalie of his 
imagination transformed thus suddenly into his 
former servant. He realized at once, however, that 
he must prevent her from making a scene, or IM 
Slight get himself into trouble. 



WSfOUXaSQ A. ICAJDSV. 

** Stop yoar noise, yon idiot !*' he exclaimed, Hi 
bad Frencli. ** It is evident that your mistress sent 
you here to deliver some message. Let me have it, 
then, without delay.** 

Though thoroughly frightened, Clothilde managed 
io tell her story, with broken speech, and many gasps, 
for she was actually in mortal terror of this man 
who had once, she believed, conspired to abduct her 
by force. Peck's anger when he found that Rosalie 
had decided not to see him broke all bounds. 

** You will tell your mistress," said he, ** that if she 
cares anything whatever for Mr. Melrose — Mr. 
Stanley Melrose — she will not disappoint me to-mor- 
row. If she does not come, at the same hour, she 
will always regret it. Don't snivel, dunce ! Do as 
I bid you! And if you dare tell her a single word 
beyond what I have instructed you, I have men who 
will follow you, as they did before, and next time you 
will not escape them so easily." 

Scared out of her wits, Clothilde promised and 
was allowed to depart, more dead than alive, to her 
carriage. But Peck had not gone far on his way 
back toward the city before Lysle and the detective 
Stopp>ed him. 

•* You will have to accompany me to the com- 
missary of police," said the detective, exhibiting s 
badge to the astonished man. 

**I do not speak French," replied Peck, attempting 
to pass. 

The detective placed a hand on his arm, and 
detained him. 

*• He says you will have to go with him under 
•rrest," said Lysle, coldly, in English, ♦* and as he 
tut heard you speaking his language to the maid 
it !• rather useless for you to pratend that fou do 



AVTHUB peoe's BXTEireB. S9I 

not understand as plain a sentence as the one wiA 

which he has addressed you.** 

Peck was inwardly furious, but he did not know 
how much there might be behind this, and he re* 
solved to control his temper till he found out. 

* I am aware that you are no friend of mine,** he 
answered, " but perhaps you can ascertain from this 
fellow on what charge he presumes to interfere with 
an American citizen who is walking peaceably in a 
public park." 

" He says," was the ready answer, " that you hava 
been guilty of threatening a French subject." 

** Purely as a joke," said Arthur, trying to smile. 

** And that you are a party to the theft of a paint- 
ing from a studio in the Rue Dutot, some timt 
since," 

The accused party turned pale. 

" I !" he stammered, trying to bluster. 

"You." 

The detective stood quietly, waiting for this con- 
versation to end. 

" Does he understand English ?" asked Peck, in a 
low tone, seeing that only by the greatest diplomacy 
could he escape being locked up, a thing he had 
reason to dread. 

" Not a word. You can say anything you please 
to me. Perhaps you will tell me in the first place 
what you meant to do with my ward ?" 

Beneath the calmness of the words, there was a 
deep meaning, and Arthur Peck was in grave doubt 
what to reply. 

" I meant to tell her," he said, slowly, ** where A 
certain painting was which I thought you might like 
lo recover." 

** And which you admit taking from m^ studio f 



A KAimn. 

**Bfno flwttfis.* 

**Of course that la not 4ie true explanation Gi 
jrour conduct/* responded Lysle, ** but as the young 
lady was wis* enough, on after thoughts, not to 
keep the appointment, we may let that pass. Have 
you an3rthing which you wish to tell me ?'* 

Peck looked at the set face before him. 

** Are you going to let this man lock me up— that 
is the question ?" he said. 

**That depends. I want my picture, in the first 
place'* 

** You shall have it to-morrow, if I am allowed to 
go free." 

•*What do you know of my cousin Stanley 7^ 

Arthur Peck hesitated a moment, and then said 
tomething in a low tone. 

Lysle staggered backward ten steps, and would 
have fallen had not the detective caught him in his 
arms. 

" I don't believe it !** he gasped. 

Peck put his hand in his pocket and drew forth a 
letter. Lysle saw at the moment that it was in the 
handwriting of his cousin, and he felt apprehensive 
of evil. 

'•Read that," he said. 

Lysle read it, read it again, rubbed his eyes like a 
dazed man, and handed it back. 

•* Keep it," said Peck. " You may want it." 

** After all," said Lysle, as if thinking aloud, ** it 
does not prove anything." 

But he put the letter in his pocket nevertheless. 

* You will find that it proves enough," said Peck, 
* if you take a journey to New York and look inta 
ihii^gs. He has evidently acted without much inter* 
fmsoe from you.** 



OONFBOKTIHe TSE BEFAUI.TEB. 2dS 

It seemed to Lysle as if he could cot bear this 
itrain a minute longer. He intimated to the detec- 
tive that there was no need of detaining the Ameri- 
can, and as they took their several paths he signalled 
to a cab that was passing and rode home. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

CONFRONTING THE DEFAULTER. 

Stanley Melrose had indeed grown old and gray, 
and there was reason for it. For years he had been 
indulging in the wildest speculations, and recently 
he had been badly *' squeezed " again by a com- 
bination of bigger and shrewder operators. As he 
had done more than once before, he had recourse 
to the property of his ward to help himself out of 
his dilemma, but the result had not been favorable. 
Rosalie's fortune had now been so badly broken into 
that there seemed no chance of ever redeeming it. 
Desperate at his losses, and with ruin staring him ia 
the face, he devoted himself with redoubled energy 
to the task of making money at his profession, doing 
things that he would once have thought it impossible 
to stoop to, rendering enormous bills for trivial 
services, cutting down the salaries of his employes, 
denying himself ordinary comforts, and taking every 
unfair advantage. 

But try as he could, it would not save him, and 
he came at last to recognize that fact. He had 
a good deal to do with the settlement of the estate 



S94 UOOIAXSa ▲ MAIDEN. 

ot the father of Arthur Peck, and finding that th« 
young man was to come into possession of a great 
deal of money, he threw himself upon his good 
graces, as an old friend, writing and begging him to 
advance enough to save him from the ruin that was 
impending. Arthur, who hated both of the Melroses 
indiscriminately, and was smarting under the fact 
that Stanley had kept a sum in his hands much 
longer than the legal time, answered this request by 
a cool refusal, upon which Stanley threatened to 
make him trouble about the stolen picture, of which 
he assured him he had evidence to convict him. 
Nothing could have been more foolish than this, 
under the circumstances. Peck put the begging 
letter into his pocket, and went with it to Luke 
Woodstock's office. Luke instituted inquiries which 
convinced him that things were all wrong, and took 
the action which developed later in the arrest. 
Peck, thinking that he could use the letter to advan- 
tage in Paris, took passage to that city, with the 
result already known to the reader. 

Stanley was heavily in debt, and it was all he 
could do to meet his obligations from month to 
month. He made new notes and got them dis- 
counted in time to meet those that were maturing ; 
he raised technicalities to keep in his hands funds 
that came to him for others in the processes of law ; 
he hypothecated the stocks and bonds of Rosalie's 
that he still had left, thinking that this was at least 
better than putting them on the market ; and it all 
did no more than postpone the terrible day that was 
too evidently coming surely on. 

No wonder that he grew old and gray and hag- 
gard. That bright future that he had planned, when 
he should be leaked up to as the head of the New 



O0]!nrB0BTIK» THE DXFAITLTSB. 295 

York bar and a king of Wall street, had faded out of 
sight. The only question now was whether bt 
would be able fo escape the penitentiary. He had 
stolen his ward's money. That was the only leg^l 
name for it. His motives might have been honor- 
able at first, but he had made himself amenable to 
the law. 

Night after night, when he could not sleep, he 
lay and thought of Lysle and Rosalie, and how 
they would look when the news was finally brought 
to them. He imagined the indignant flush on the 
white brow of his cousin, the turning away to hide 
his grief. He saw the countenance of the girl 
wreathed in scorn and anger for the man whom she 
had learned to respect, if not to love, with her earli- 
est years. The men of the world, the merchants, 
attorneys, bankers — they would despise him, too. 
But he dreaded of all things the hatred of the young 
girl whose trust he had betrayed. 

When Lysle sent that request that he should come 
to Paris, he would have given anything to have been 
able to respond. Had the fortune which he held in 
charge been safe he would have gone without delay, 
but now he could not look them in the face. She 
would be safe there, he had no doubt of that, and 
all he could do or say would be without effect 
when they found, as they soon must, that he was a 
defaulter. 

It was a very ugly word, that ** defaulter," He 
remembered addressing a jury once, when a poor 
wretch sat in the dock charged with this offense, and 
how scathingly he had pointed his finger at him as 
only fit for a prison cell. The jury had convicted 
the man without leaving their seats, and the judge 
bad given him a sentence of fifteen years. Fifteen 



996 SKXJLDHirat a haidkbt. 

years ! He must be stm at Sing Sing, wearing tli» 

convict's garb, eating the prison food, laboring with 
the common felons at the common task ! And the 
proud Stanley Melrose, who had never taken a word 
of discourtesy from any one, might soon be sent 
there to keep his company ! 

Lysle was not long in getting ready to accompany 
Rosalie to America. He felt that he must know as 
soon as possible whether the intimation of Arthur 
Peck had any foundation. If he had been consort- 
ing with a thief, with a receiver of stolen property, 
he wanted to know it at once. He had no concep- 
tion of the other things that Stanley had done to 
bring himself within the scope of the statutes 
against crime. He only knew what Peck had said, 
and that was enough to drive him frantic. Honor- 
able as he himself was in the smallest things, he 
could not comprehend such a thing as this from a 
man who bore the reputation enjoyed by his cousin. 
He wanted to know if it was true. No, he wanted 
to know that it was not true ! Until that was 
proven, peace and rest could never be his. 

It was when they were on the sea that the idea 
first occurred to him that he would have to do some- 
thing with Rosalie until he had interviewed Stanley 
and learned the truth of Peck's accusation. He 
could not tell her that his cousin was unfit to man- 
age her affairs or even to have the slightest relations 
with her until he had more proof to that effect. 
And even after he had the proof — if it should come 
to that — how could he break it to her ? He studied 
this over, as he walked the deck, until he thought 
he should go wild. A man who would violate 
his oath and use the property of a ward and 
relation was not the one to have any authority 



OONFSONTUfa THE DBFAULTSB. S9f 

whatever over the actions of a young girl. Lysle 
knew that while Stanley had not exercised his rights 
for a long time they were still his, and that being 
the elder and thoroughly versed in the ways of the 
law, he would be a formidable antagonist if a ques- 
tion arose which of them should rule her future. 
How could a mere artist, unversed in the most 
ordinary business transactions, convince a surrogate 
that he was better fitted to have charge of a girl and 
her large fortune than a man of Stanley's capabili- 
ties ? It might not be easy to prove the theft of the 
property. Even if it were shown to be lost, Stanley 
could set up any one of a dozen defenses. He could 
say that it was done on his best business judgment^ 
in short he could say anything, and his high stand- 
ing would convince the court that he told the truth. 
There was something ridiculous in the charge, 
brought against a man of such standing. A jury 
would say it was incredible that he should have 
gone to such lengths to obtain a moderate fortune, 
he who had managed millions of dollars worth 
of property for others, and always with such rare 
fidelity and honesty ! 

He began to realize the difficulties in his way, 
providing Peck's story were true — always providing 
it were true. He hoped in his inmost heart that it 
was a complete falsehood, and that Stanley could 
explain that damaging-looking letter in some other 
way. 

But still Rosalie must not see Stanley until Lysie 
had come to some decision in this important matter. 
And how to accomplish that in such a way as not to 
arouse her suspicions was the thing that puzzled 
him. 

He had never told a lie in his life — net even a lit- 



MS IfOnXXSNO A liAIDE»^. 

tie one — except the time when he did it to screea 
Dudley Morgan. He felt that he should have to 
invent one now, and he doubted his capacity to do 
it successfully. After much thought, he decided on 
this course. He would take Rosalie and Clothildc 
to the Barrett House and go in search of Stanley. 
If he was unable to clear up this charge on the first 
day, he would tell her that his cousin was out of 
town. That would give him time to think it over 

Rosalie brightened as they neared the shore. 
Lysle wondered what was the character of her 
thoughts of the one from whom she had so long 
been absent. They had been such attached friends 
from her babyhood, and then there had been this 
thing between them that was almost like an 
estrangement. He could see that she was very 
anxious to meet his cousin again, and he dreaded 
the future. 

Stanley was not at the St. Nicholas. The clerk 
said he had removed from there some weeks previ- 
ous, and gave him his new address, an obscure street 
in the business section, where a few of the old-fash- 
ioned dwellings of a former age still stood amidst 
the large, modern blocks devoted to the storing of 
merchandise. Lysle felt a chill as he climbed the 
narrow stairway, badly lit at intervals by the insuffi- 
cient and infinitesimal gas-jets, for it was in the 
evening that he made his visit. There was some- 
thing uncanny about the place. He wondered why 
his cousin had chosen such a locality to make a 
home in ; he, who had always seemed so careful of 
surroundings. It prepared him somewhat for the 
change that he was to find in him in so many other 
ways. At last, having rea$^'«^ the top landing, h« 



discorered a door on which was tacked a card with 
the name of Melrose, and he knocked lightly. 

** Who's there ?" called a startled voice, that he did 
not recognize at first. 

There was something in the tone that implied that 
Yisitors were not frequent, and Lysle thought it wis- 
est not to answer except by another knock. There 
was a short wait, during which the occupant of the 
room seemed to be moving about, and then there 
was the closing of a door, and the turning of a key. 
All this took perhaps less than a minute, but to the 
waiter on the landing, it seemed ten times as long. 
Slippered feet finalty approached the entrance, a 
bolt was drawn, and a gray head made its appear- 
ance. 

Changed as he was, there was no doubt it was 
Stanley, and Lysle walked into the room without 
ceremony. 

He felt a sense of indignation at his cousin for 
living in such a place as this, almost for having that 
haggard look and those gray hairs. What right had 
he to do these things, which were in a measure a 
disgrace to the family ? The first look that the 
cousins exchanged was an index to the scene that 
was to follow. It was evident that there was to be 
no mincing of words on the part of the younger 
man. 

" What are you doing in this damnable hole ?" he 
exclaimed, looking around him in disgust. 

" I — I have charge of the property," stammered 
Stanley, " and it is very quiet here. It — it is a good 
place to study — and think." 

" And to invite your friends to, I suppose ?" Lysic 
added, with sarcasm. 



JiO XOULDISa A XAIDBV. 

^'No^ I never have visitors. How did yott find 
me?" 

**By the hotel clerk." 

** He did wrong. I only told him to redirect my 
mail here. I did not think he would send any one. 
Probably he would not have given you the address 
had he not known our relationship." 

Lysle shivered at the word. 

"What are you doing here, tell me that?" he said. 
** It is no place for a prominent lawyer, for a trustee 
who holds the interest of wards in his hands. I can 
not help saying what I think of your conduct. It is 
simply disgraceful !" 

Even as he said this he wondered how he could do 
it ; and he wondered too how this man, who was 
nevei in the habit of brooking criticism, could stand 
there so meekly and endure it. He did not wish him 
to receive it in this tame manner. He wished that 
he would reply in equally scathing terms, that he 
might even threaten blows. Lysle would have been 
a reed in the hands of his cousin, had it come to a 
mere question of physical strength, but so great was 
his sense of injury that he would have hesitated not 
a minute in risking the encounter. 

" I thought I could live where it suited me," was 
the quiet reply, "and I preferred the seclusion which 
can be obtained in this district after nightfall." 

** You have obligations," responded the other, 
"which should have prevented you from seeking 
such a den — the obligations of a guardian of a young 
lady of fortune and family, who would be disgraced 
by this act of yours, if it were known. And you 
need not imagine that it is not known. I would 
wager anything that it is talked over on the Street, 



QOXFKONTINO THE DXPAVItTBB. 301 

•od In the law offices, and the ugliest dedvodoat 

drawn !" 

" What — w^hat — dcduc-tions ?" stammered Stan* 
ley, with a frightened look. 

" I cannot answer you. You know best," replied 
Lysle. 

The pale face of Stanley Melrose turned the color 
of clay. 

« You—*' 

" Yes," said Lysle, convinced by his manner that 
the story he had heard was true. " I have seea 
Arthur Peck, and he has shown me your letter." 

Stanley, thoroughly crushed, seemed unable to 
make a front of any kind. He sank into a chair, and 
buried his face in his hands. 

"What can I say to you?" demanded the Other. 
•* Thief !" 

Stanley glanced up, and immediately lowered his 
eyes. A tremor passed through him at the appella- 
tion, and then he relapsed into his former position. 

"Are you not a nice man," pursued the artist, "to 
have the charge of a young girl like Rosalie ? How 
have you dared — " 

Stanley roused himself to interrupt him. 

"Wait! Havel tried in any way to control her 
conduct since I — since there was any question like 
this?** 

" No," said Lysle, harshly. ** You have thrown all 
your duties on me. But you must do more than 
that now. You must resign your guardianship 
openly. It is impossible that my name should ba 
associated with yours after this day." 

The gray-haired man rose and stood, the wre^ of 
his former self ^ before him. 



303 KouLDmci Jl ua 

« Where is Rosalie?" he asked. "She— «li« 4i4 

not come with you ?" 

Lysle bowed without speaking. 

" She must not see me. It would shock her too 
much." 

" Do you think she would ivisA to see you, if she 
knew ?" Lysle broke out, hotly. 

"Yes." There was something of defiance in the 
tone. " She would wish to see me if I were in a 
felon's cell. It is that which makes it the hardest 
for me. Can it be that you have lived with her all 
these years, and have understood nothing? Have 
you really been as blind as that ?" 

Lysle thought the walls were losing their firmness, 
and that the old building was about to collapse, as it 
should have done years before. Did he know it ? 
Yes, he did know it. He had known it for a long 
time, and he had tried not to know it. Rosalie cared 
for nothing in the whole world but Stanley. That 
fact ought to have made him kinder in his language 
to this man, who had no other claim to his con- 
sideration. 

"Stanley," he replied, chokingly, " I ask your 
pardon. Let me help you out of this. You are 
dear to Rosalie, and that is enough for me. But, for 
the love of God ! remove your habitation to some 
respectable locality, and do not attract attention by 
further eccentricities ?" 

Stanley made a motion as if he would grasp the 
hand that was held out to him, but instantly drew 
back again. 

" No, no ! It is past the time for that !" he cried. 
•• The less people see of me the better, I have made 
mistakes that cannot be remedied." 

A conflict of emotion filled the heart of th* ankist 



[CKnfFBOimNO THX DBFAT7LTBK. 

He seemed to be back at school with Staaley. H« 
saw the erect, self-poised young man, who could 
control, not only himself, but everybody about him, 
when he chose. He saw the young guardian, to 
whom the child Rosalie looked up as to a god. 

" What shall I do," he asked, " about her t She 
heard — we heard — that you were growing gray, and 
that you were looking despondent, and she said, 
* Let us go to him.' She is here in the city, and I do 
not know how to put her off. She has come on pur- 
pose to see you, but as you well say, she must not, at 
least until you are in a much better condition. I 
cannot imagine what has brought you to this pass, 
but the change in you is terrible, Stanley. Do not 
people remark it ? Does it not affect your busi- 
ness ?" 

Stanley admitted it with a nod. 

" It affects everything. But it will not do so much 
longer. I am going away — for a — vacation — and 
then I think I shall feel easier. I have worked 
altogether too hard, not given myself enough rest. 
I must — go — away." 

" You must, indeed," responded Lysle. " Could 
you not go at once, say, in the morning, so that I 
could tell her that you were out of town ? And if 
you could go without leaving your address, so that 
she would not ask to follow you — " 

The lawyer looked up with a peculiar expression. 

'* I shall not leave my address," he answered, ** and 
I will go in t'le morning, perhaps to-night." 

"She will^ant to wait till you return," suggested 
Lysle. " If you could send word to your clerks that 
you should probably be gone a longtime, on business 
of importance, I might porsuade her to rctw*^ th« 



9M sfovLDnia a uaidwk, 

sooner to Fnmoo^ Do you need anjrtbiag lot 
expenses ?" 

« No !'• repeated the lawyer, absently. •• I will 
write to my clerks that I shall be gone — a long 
time.** 

" Good-bye," said Lysle, brightening. ** Forgive 
me for the harsh things I said, won't you T* 

" Freely," was the answer. 

** Good-night, then !" 

••Good-night.'* 



CHAPTER XXVL 

IK THE inspector's POWER. 

When Stanley was alone again he sat silently for 
some time, resting his face in his hands. Where was 
he to go ? He had invested almost the last dollar of 
Rosalie's money — his own had been gone long ago— 
in the Alma gold mine, which he had thought sure 
to pan out handsomely enough to redeem all his 
previous losses. Nothing remained for him but 
flight, and the sooner he went the better. Perhaps in 
some distant land he might again pick up the threads 
of life and find peace. But, ah ! How could he hope 
for peace when that childish face would be always 
before him, reproaching him for his broken trust ! — 
the face of that little girl who had looked upon him 
as one who could not do wrong, and who was a fit 
guide in all things ! He thought he should go mad 
If he dwelt on this subject, and he roused himself to 



IN THS UMPBOTOl^S FOWSBi M 

^^tt the work of packing the few things that bt 

meant to take with him. 

Another knock at his door startled him in the midsl 
of this occupation. Could it be that Lyslc had for- 
gotten something that he wished to say, and come 
back for that purpose ? He stopped in the middle 
of the floor, hesitating whether to answer or to pre- 
tend that he was asleep. The Knock came again, 
louder than the first time. He must answer. 

« Who's there ?" 

" I wish to speak with Mr. Melrose." 

** The hour is late. Come to-morrow.** 

"My business is imperative. I cannot wait.** 

** Who could it be ? Had anything happened at 
the office ? Slowly he walked to the door and 
unlocked it. A man stood there, whom he knew 
well,' an inspector of police, named Gallivan. Even 
then he suspected nothing of the true errand oa 
which he had come. 

" Well, Gallivan ?" he said, laconically. 

" You must go with me, Mr. Melrose. You are 
wanted at headquarters." 

Stanley looked at him blankly. 

"It must be a thing of great importance to call 
me at such a time of night," he said. 

*' Here's the paper," replied the man, handing it 
to him. 

Taking it from the officer's hand, Stanley looked 
at it with dazed eyes. 

" I don't understand it," he said. ** Tell me what 
it is all about. My eyes' are not as good as they 
used to be." 

Gallivan took back the paper. 

'*U is for the Vandenhoff matter/' said ba 



MOOLDDIO A 

* Woodstock sajrs yoa have been vting th* giilli 
■K>ney illegally.'* 

Stanley caught the man by the tbonlder. 

** I am under arrest !" he cried. 

*» That's about it.** 

•* And what interest has Woodstock In It ?* 

**I don't know. It seems that he made the com* 
plaint. You will hear all about it in the 
morning." 

"And to-night?* 

•* You must sleep at headquarters.** 

Stanley shivered. 

" In a— m a cell ?'* 

**That is for the chief inspector to «ay. But 
come, we must be going. You can talk this all over 
after you get there. I have two men waiting at the 
outer door, who will wonder what keeps us so long. 
Just put on your hat and lock your room up." 

Stanley complied mechanically. When they 
reached the foot of the stairs, a carriage was found 
in waiting, and the men stood there to accompany 
Gallivan and his prisoner. The entire party entered 
the carriage and were driven toward Mulberry 
street. 

" You thought I would resist, evidently,** said 
Stanley, with a faint smile, in allusion to the size ol 
the force sent after him. 

" Oh, well," replied Gallivan, ** it is as well to be 
prepared for emergencies, you know." 

Nothing more was said till the police headquar* 
ters was reached. Here the chief inspector, whc 
knew Melrose very well, awaited them. The other 
retired and left the lawyer and inspector together. 

*^ This is an unfortunate affair,*' begaa the in>p«c 
tar. "How did it happen?" 



or THB DTSPSOIOK'fl POWSBt MT 

" Let me tell you at once," replied Melrose, " that 
I shall not say a word about the matter. I want to 
see my counsel, Mr. Dodd. I shall act on his advice 
in everything." 

" Then you do not claim to be innocent ?** jaked 
the inspector. 

"I claim nothing. Do your duty, and leave me 
to make my defense in my own way." 

The chief inspector did not like to send his pris- 
oner to bed without something more definite than 
this. 

" I have known for a long time that you had some 
great trouble on your mind," said he. " You have 
grown ten years older in twelve months. I have 
detailed men to shadow you, for I anticipated that 
something would develop soon. Do you wish to 
know what they reported ?" 

" No," said Stanley. " I only wish to be left to 
myself." 

When it became evident that he would say nothing 
more, the inspector had him thoroughly searched 
and conducted to a cell, as if he had not been for a 
dozen years one of New York's most prominent citi- 
zens. 

At his breakfast the next morning Lysle saw the 
account of the arrest, headed by large type. He 
read it through, hardly able to believe his eyes, and 
then decided to go at once to Woodstock's office, and 
see what it all meant. Before he left the hotel, he 
called in Clothilde and gave her positive directions 
to see that her mistress was prevented from seeing 
newspapers till further orders. The girl, devoted to 
her master's interests, promised without question. 

" If she asks you to get her a paper, buy some of 
tiie literary periodicals ; say that the others are afi 



Wm mommo a luamm. 

w^ Look out that she doea not call a 

herself, or If she does, give the boy something and 
tell him what to say. If that will not do, mani^e !• 
Intercept him. Do anything, in short, bvt let hgt 
see one of the dailies." 

** Yes, Monsieur Lysle,** responded the girl 

Woodstock was at his office when Lysle reached 
there. He looked up in the greatest surprise wher 
he saw him enter, and ros^ to take him by the hand. 

" When did you arrive ?" he asked. " I thought 
you still in Europe, though I could not make out why 
my dispatches- were unanswered. You must have 
started before 1 sent them. I did not know the 
worst till a few days ago, and even then I would 
have waited, except that I found him preparing for 
flight." 

The ignominy that the arrest had brought on 
the name of Melrose was rankling in the heart of 
the young artist, and he was not disposed tr sha* e the 
evident pleasure of his old-time friend at the success 
of his surveillance. 

*' Whom do you represent in this affair ?" h^asked, 
with an accent of hauteur. 

"A dead woman, who left me with a sacred 
trust !" replied Woodstock, impressively. ** I repre 
sent Janet Steiner." 

The other was silenced. , 

"Well," he said, after a pause, "how bad is Itf 
Of course the morning papers have magnihed every- 
thing, as they always do." 

** That we shall see," responded Woodstock. ** But 
one thing let me tell you now, Stanley Melrose )s 
the greatest villain who ever lived ?" 

His voice was raised as he pronounced this opith 



a THX INSFX0TOS*8 POWXB. 309 

ioa, and Lysle flushed with mortification as he heard 
him. 

'*Do not forget that you are speaking of my 
cousin, " he replied. 

" I do not forget," said Woodstock, " but I also 
recollect other things. I should have told you when 
you were here before, some things that I knew. He 
is not only a defaulter, a forger, a thiefr but he is, in 
the true sense of the word, a murderer." 

Lysle could only repeat " A murderer !*' and stare 
at him. 

" He killed Miss Steiner," said Woodstock, in 
explanation. " Not with poison of the ordinary 
kind, but with threats and harshness. He came 
from Europe that time with his discoveries, and held 
them over her until she was almost frantic. When I 
was called in and learned the truth, he agreed to 
keep silent, but one day he said something else to 
her that drove her to her sick bed, from which she 
never rose I" 

** There must have been great guilt when a mere 
word could produce such an effect as that," said 
Lysle, still thinking it his duty to stand by his 
cousin, before the terrible assault of this man. 

" That does not follow,' replied Woodstock, ** and 
in justice to her who is dead, I shall some time tell 
you the whole truth. It is better that you should 
know everything than that she should suffer from 
your cruel suspicions. You will then see how an 
over-sensitive mind could not bear the constant fear 
to which he subjected her. But upon the matter m 
hand, you are here now, and I shall be glad to take 
any suggestion from you, that is not opposed t^ 
Justice for the prisoner." 

A boy knocked at the door and brought a letter 



910 MOULDIKa A UAU>VM, 

for the lawyer, who tore open the envelope and read 
it at once. 

" Mr. Dodd writes me that he has been retained as 
counsel for Mr. Melrose," he said. " I will go over 
to his of&c« with you if you wish." 

Mr. Dodd was found to be a very affable gentle- 
man of middle age, with little of the appearance of 
a lawyer. He talked the affair over with Mr. Wood- 
stock much as if it w«re an invitation to lunch or a 
contemplated visit to the theatre. He had already, 
he said, sent a clerk over to the court, to say that 
he desired to waive examination, as nothing could be 
gained, in his opinion, by ventilating matters before 
the police justice. He had had a long talk that 
morning with Stanley, who quite agreed with him 
in this opinion. While they were discussing these 
things a messenger came with the statement that 
bail had been fixed at one hundred thousand dollars, 
an extraordinary sum, as Lysle remarked to the 
lawyers. 

"I charge him with having embezzled an extraor- 
dinary amount," said Mr. Woodstock. '* I doubt if 
there is much left of the entire fortune of your ward, 
which he stated under oath at the last examination 
to be over three hundred thousand dollars in value." 

" But what has he done with it .?" asked Lysle, in 
amazement. " When he finds that these proceed- 
ings must go on, he will certainly give it up, and 
then none of us, I hope, will wish to be hard on 
him" 

Woodstock contemplated the speaker with pity. 

**Give it up!" he repeated. "He would like 
only too well to give it up, I have no doubt, if he 
could get hold of it again. The fact is that he has 
lost it io speculation." 



fir TBS INSPX0TOK*i! POWBB. Sit 

Lysle heard this statement with horror. 

"But he is rich," he said. "Surely he woaM 
lurrender his own fortune to make good this lost*** 

•* His own fortune went first.** 

"All of it?" 

" Very nearly, I think. He has had a hard time tfl 
the Street and in Western mines of late. No, 
Lysle, your cousin has nothing left to speak of. He 
threw over everything to lighten the ship, but it ran 
on the rocks at last." 

Mr. Dodd smiled as if to say, " This fellow has it 
right, Melrose.** 

** I will go at once and see him," was Lysle's next 
remark. 

** Excuse me for mentioning it,** said the affable 
Mr. Dodd, " but he particularly requests that no one 
be admitted." 

" He could not have intended to include me in that 
prohibition," 

"Excuse me ag^in. He mentioned your name 
especially." 

Lysle looked at the lawyer with distrust. 

** I should like to know what other friend he has," 
he said, sharply. 

Mr. Dodd turned to Mr. Woodstock, and they c<hi- 
ferred for several minutes about the case, quite as if 
they were partners instead of opponents. Then 
Mr. Woodstock took his leave, and Mr. Dodd came 
back to Lysle. 

" Mr. Melrose asked me to deliver this message to 
you. He says if you really wish to serve him you 
will manage in some wa)^ to get the Young Person 
•ut of the country as soon as possible." 

** And leave him to the law ?" cried Lysle. 

** And leave him to the law. To be plain witk 



lis MOPlPmo A MAIDEBL 

you, he can make no defense. He has stolen the 
money. As it b gone, and his own with it, he can 
make no restitution. His only course is to throw 
himself on the mercy of the judge, and get as short 

a sentence as possible." 

Lysle walked up and down the room in distress. 
It seemed incredible that a Melrose could ever wear 
the gatb of a convict. 

" Is the case as desperate as that ?** he asked, 
finally. 

** Precisely," replied the smiling Mr. Dodd. 

Lysle thought hard for a few moments. 

** What will Rosalie say when she finds it out ?*' 
he said, aloud. 

** It will be hard on her, of course," responded the 
lawyer, good-naturedly. " It is a great deal of 
■loney, and it makes it very bad when the whole 
•f it goes at once. But Mr. Woodstock tells me 
that he has something for her when she is of age 
—money that Miss Steiner left in his charge. It is 
but a trifle, only thirty thousand or so, but it is 
better than nothing. He would doubtless advance 
part of it if it is necessary to complete her educa- 
tion." 

Lysle had not been thinking of money when he 
made his observation. He had been thinking of the 
love that had grown up in that young breast for this 
worthless man, ever since she had been old enough 
to know him. 

** Poor Rosalie ! Poor Rosalie !" he said, over and 
over as he rode up Broadway to the Barrett House. 

In response to her eager questions about Stanley 
he told her that his cousin had gone out of the city 
— to a distant part of the country, in fact — and had 
•ot left any definite address. His clerks, he said, 



IN THB INSPEOTOb's FOWBB. 

did not expect him to return for a long time» it 
might be months. The girl grew very sad at this 
information, and said little during that day or the 
next. 

But luck was not with Lysle that time. Clothilde 
bad managed to keep the newspapers away from her 
mistress, but she was not proof against the conver- 
sation in the dining-room. Two gentlemen who sat 
near them were discussing the case of the defaulter, 
and the words referring to Stanley reached her ears. 

" I think it will go hard with him," said one of 
them to the other. *' He is to be tried next month, 
I hear." 

" Is he the same Stanley Melrose who made such 
a furore in Tallahassee & Lake Superior?" inquired 
the second gentleman. 

" Yes, he has been considered a big man in basi- 
ness circles, but that's all over now. He will cer- 
tainly have to go to Sing Sing." 

Rosalie put down her fork, which she was on the 
point of carrying to her mouth, and turned a startled 
face toward her guardian. Then, rising, she walked 
firmly to the door, he accompanying her. They 
stepped in the elevator and rode to their apartments, 
without a word. But as soon as they were inside of 
them, she reeled, and he had to support her with both 
his arms. 

He started to nng the bell for Clothilde, but she 
stopped him. 'Rousing herself a little she reached a 
sofa, and reclined upon it. 

*'Teli me what it is," she said, faintly. "Tell me 
all. You have been keeping it from me, but I must 
know. If I do Rot learn it from you, I shall frofli 
others." 

He was alarmed at her conditioa, and begged her 



SM mULZONG A MAIDBV. 

to let him call a physician^ but she refused. Sht 
persisted that he must teh her about Stanley before 
he did anything else. It seemed as if he could not 
begin, even after he made up his mind that he could 
sot avoid compliance ; and he stood there, waiting 
for the courage that would not come. 

" He is in jail," she said, in a whisper, •*! know 
that. What has he done ?" 

** They say — his accusers say — that he has — taken 
money not his own." 

She stared at him vacantly. 

•* Stolen ? Stanley stolen ? It cannot be !" 

He cast down his eyes, for he could not look at 
her. 

** You do not speak," she continued. * Can you 
^lieve it ?" 

He waited another minute before he could answer. 

** Sometimes," he said, at last, "a man is entrusted 
with large amounts of money to keep for other 
people and invest. Sometimej* he is careless in his 
Investments and finds the money going from him. 
Sometimes he becomes desperate, and tries to 
recover by speculation what he has lost. Sometimes 
the market goes against him and everything is 
swept away." 

She listened with the utmost eagerness. The 
repressed manner in which he spoke convinced her 
that he considered the matter a very serious one; 

** And has Stanley done this ?" she asked. 

• I am afraid so." 

•• Does he admit it ?* 
**Yes.- 

* How long will he have to stay in the Jail ?*• 

ttt thought her wmiderfully self-possessed to as^ 



nr va nsnocos's powbs. tli 

tint question. L!ttl« did he know the suffeHng ibt 
was passing through. 

•* I cannot tell," he answered, dejectedly. 

** Perhaps many days ?'* 

•* Perhaps years," he said, with a groan. 

There was no use in trying to deceive her 'any 
longer. 

"Years!' she cried. "Oh, no, not years! He 
will pay these people, and then they will let him 
out." 

" He has nothing to pay them with,** responded 
Lysle, gloomily, " His own money is also lost." 

She lay without speaking for some time after 
that, when a sudden thought struck her and she 
sat upright. 

" I have much money, Lysle ! Miss Steiner always 
told me that I should be rich when I was a lady ! 
Cannot he take that ? He may have it to the last 
penny ! I would rather dress in calicoes than that 
he should stay there in prison. Will you go and 
tell him, Lysle ? Say that he is welcome to it- 
more than welcome to every dollar — if it will help 
him out of his trouble !" 

It was becoming very hard for him. He could 
Stand it no longer. In a burst of ingenuousness he 
told her all. Then he stood there, frightened at 
what he had done, and waited to hear the torrent of 
Indignation which he felt sure would be the first 
thing to come. 

" It is my money that he has taken ?" she e^claimed^ 
breathlessly. 

" Yes, Rosalie, it is yours." 

**Then the judge will surely set him free when I 
go there and tell him that I do not want it I What 
fight had anybody to arrest him without consaltlag 



flA maoLDisa a maihbi. 

ne? Come, let at go immediately, ftod get Htm 
out" 

Thoroughly astonished at the absolute indifference 
with which she received the news of the loss of her 
fortune, which he had supposed would give her sudi 
intense distress, Lysle could hardly answer. But in 
a feeble way he tried to explain that defalcations 
were more than the mere business of those whose 
money was lost — that the State took the guilty party 
in hand and demanded his punishment. 

** I am not sure that your statement might not 
lessen his sentence," he added, as the only ray of 
comfort he could give her. "He will have to be 
tried, though, and no one can prevent it. Yes, Rosa* 
lie, Stanley has violated the law, and he must suffer 
the penalty. I should be as glad as you if there 
were any way to free him, but there is none." 

**I must see him," she said, thoughtfully. " I will 
write a note and send to him, saying how sorry I am 
for his sake, and how little I care for my own loss. 
Then he will consent to see me I am sure." 

She went at once for her writing materials, and 
began the most affectionate of letters. Lysle 
watched her with growing apprehension, as he 
marked the eager face bent over the manuscript. 

" She does not comprehend it yet," he mused sadly. 
•* When she fully understands it, and finds that he is 
sentenced to long years ol toil, htf poor little beart 
will break I" 



"it sdtspki81» tou„ dobs it?" sit 



CHAPTER XXVIL 

•*IT SURPRISES YOU, DOES IT ?" 

It does not take the world long to dethrone its 
idols. There are always enough new aspirants ready 
to fiiil the vacant pedestals. The young brokers of 
Wall street, who had looked with admiration upon 
the brilliant Napoleon of Finance, joked about his 
arrest over their noonday lunch. The newly-fledged 
orators of the Bar speculated upon his probable 
sentence as coolly as they had yesterday discussed 
the remarkable fact that he had lost two verdicts in 
succession. The stocks in which he had been most 
interested sank abruptly out of sight in the market 
quotations. The Tallahassee & Lake Superior Rail- 
road bonds were considered not worth patting on 
the list after that day. Men who had invested in the 
real estate schemes that he fathered, got out of them 
as fast as they could. The Alma Gold Mine was 
admitted a failure. In short, all who had looked 
toward Stanley Melrose as one looks toward a 
weather vane, for indications of the prevailing direc- 
tion of the financial wind, turned toward other 
vanes on other steeples, never thinking that these, 
too, might have their own gearing interfered with 
by-and-by, and be as valueless as his. 

Mr. Dodd was quite right in his estimate of 
Stanley's chances. The evidence was most con- 
clusive against him. It would only excite contempt 
for him to offer an elaborate defence, and bother 
judge and jury for three or four days. A plea of 



SAM MOULDINO A MAIDXir. 

••guilty* and a little speech in reference to the good 
character hitherto sustained by the prisoner, were 
the only things there was any use in offering. 
Stanley was lawyer enough to see this point clearly. 
Indeed, it was at his own suggestion that Mr. Dodd 
had decided what to do. 

When the letter came from Rosalie, Stanley was 
much affected. He expected that its tenor would be 
one of reproachfulness, and he nerved himself for 
the anticipated execration. He had taken all that 
she had, and she would be left to the mercies of the 
world. Nothing that she could say would be 
harsher than he deserved. With these reflections he 
opened the missive, and when he read its contents — 
breathing only the sweetest sympathy, and assur- 
ances of her undiminished, nay, her increased love — • 
he felt that a note of the other kind would have been 
less painful to receive. 

" Let me come and see you," she wrote, " even if 
it be only to press your hand and to kiss your fore- 
head. Do not say no. It is the little girl whose 
fingers you used to hold when she was too young 
to walk alone — the child whose hammock you slung 
by yours those summers at Cape May — who entreats 
of you this dear favor !" 

At first he thought he could never do it, but as 
time wore on it seemed to him that he owed her 
this, at least, no matter how painful the ordeal might 
be to himself. So he wrote her that she might come, 
and named a day and hour in the following week. 

The prison officials doffed their hats when the 
beautiful young woman presented her ticJcet of 
admission, and relaxed their vigilance so far as to 
allow her to converse entirely at her leisure, and 
ifliwatehed, with ker guardian. Lysle had come as 



*rr BURyRisBs tou, does ttl" 319 

far as the office with her, and waited there till She 
should return. There was a great change in hef 
since Stanley had seen her last. She was not the 
young person who had left him three years before 
for Europe. She was taller, and rounder, but that 
was not it. She was dressed as he had never seen 
her, and as he had never imagined her. She wore 
her best clothing and many jewels were on her 
hands and wrists. A chain with a diamond locket 
sparkled at her throat. Her hair was dressed in the 
mode, and every article that she wore told of the 
convert she had become to the prevailing fashions. 
But the same face was there ; changed by sorrow, 
but still the same. 

The sheriff turned the key and left them together. 
After taking the hand she held out to him, Stanley 
sank into a chair from sheer weakness. Rosalie put 
her arms around his neck, and pressed her cheek to 
his gray hair without speaking, for a long time. 
Lysle had told her he was much changed, but she 
had not been prepared for what she saw. The man 
before her was only thirty-four years of age, but he 
might have been sixty, if looks could count. She 
had known him as an erect, self-contained, even 
imperious man. She found him bent, weak and 
trembling. 

" Listen, while I talk to you, Stanley," she said, at 
last, " for they will not leave us very long together. 
You must escape from here. I cannot have you go 
to prison for years and years. The lawyers say the 
judge will surely sentence you, if you are taken into 
court. You must not wait for a trial. You must 
get out of the country before that time." 

The prisoner lifted hit white face and looked at 



330 MOULDING A MAIDEN. 

ker in a frightened way. Had the shock, theo, 

turned her brain so soon ? 

"I know that you will answer that it cannot be 
done," she continued, speaking in a whisper. " The 
jail is guarded closely. There are bolts on your 
door and heavy bars on the windows. I know it all. 
But you can escape, if you desire, and I have come 
to say to you that you must do it, if you have any 
love left for me. It is not enough for you to say 
that you are willing to undergo your sentence. I 
shall suffer as much as you— even more — every hour 
you are there. You would not be so cruel as to 
inflict this on me, when I offer you the means to 
avoid it." 

Still he gazed at her and said nothing. 

" I have here in my clothing some saws and a long 
cord. You can cut the bars of your door — I have 
read of it being done in France by Gompereau, who 
robbed the Rothschilds. You have only to saw a 
very little each night, or whenever the opportunity 
is given you, and stop up the cracks with soap 
blacked by iron rust. I will see that the window 
bars are cut in the same way. This cord is very 
fine. It is to be let down into the street from the 
window when I give you the word, and a rope-lad- 
der will be fastened to it for you to draw up and 
make fast. Then you have only to descend. A car- 
riage — a row-boat to a vessel bound to a foreign 
port— and you are safe !" 

She started to give him the articles of which she 
spoke, but he stopped her. 

-' My poor child," he answered, " you have no idea 
•f the difficulties in the way of the plan you outline. 
The corridor is guarded carefully. The officer on 
duty would stop me — fire on me. if uecessjiry. 



**« susrsuxft Too^ Don nf* m 

There it no escape from here. I most e«daf« my 

punishment." 

But Rosalie had no idea of being dissuaded at 
easily as this. 

" Your punishment !" she echoed. ** Jfy punish* 
ment, you mean ! Do you think it is ioryou that I 
wish this ? No, it is for myself, I could not live if 
YOU were sent to that horrible Sing Sing. I insist 
that you shall attempt this means of escaping it." 

" And if I should be killed while trying ?" 

"It would be better than the living death they 
would condemn you to suffer. You are not well 
now, and a year in prison would be the end of yom 
But you will not be shot. I have arranged that the 
guard shall feign sleep and I shall select some dark 
night, when no one will see you from the street — " 

He found himself listening to her proposal, even 
while its Utopian character seemed growing stronger. 

** How could you get any one to engage in such 
a dangerous undertaking? Your confederates 
would themselves be given long terms of imprison- 
ment. Even you, Rosalie, would be liable to punish- 
ment." 

" It is enough that my plans are complete. There 
will be no failure," replied the girl, with impatience^ 
** if you follow my directions with care. I assure 
you I have arranged everything.*' 

" Is it possible," he asked, " that you have 
managed to bribe one of the officials ?" 

"Yes, the watchman in charge of the corridor. 
Hide these saws and the cord, and move carefully. 
Their plan is to keep you here for more than a 
month yet. You have plenty of time. I siial) rely 
<¥a your discreticiii/' 



S9S mmujBXQ ▲ maidsv. 

R« hesitated no longer, but took the things fro«i 

berand hastily concealed them. 

** I must go now," she said. " It is best not to 
attract attention by remaining too long. I shall 
want to come again, and they must not think that I 
abuse my privileges." 

She had said nothing about his crime, but he 
could not let her go without expressing his contri- 
tion. 

" Can you ever forgive me, Rosalie Y' he said, in a 
tremulous voice. 

** I am so glad," she replied, "that it was not any 
one else's property." (There were others who had 
also lost their investments, but she did not know 
that.) " If I had as much more I would gladly give 
it to know that you were safe in a land far from this. 
But you soon will be," she added, brightly. 

** There is one thing," he said, for he could not 
lielp sharing her hope. " In many countries they 
could arrest me and bring me back for what I have 
done. The safest place is the Argentine Republic. 
If I am to be put on a vessel it should be bound for 
Buenos Ayres, You will remember?" 

** I knew it already," she answered. " But now I 
roust go. Good-bye for to-day, and may God be 
with you !" 

She rattled at the barred door, and the «heriff 
came to let her out. As she passed out the officers 
in the corridor lifted their hats again Ther* was 
only one of their number who dreamed of the plan 
that young head had put in operation. 

She rode back with Lysle to the hotel, and told 
him how broken Stanley was. He was surprised 
that she did not seem more affected by the interview, 
fewt thought again that her youth was at iau^r; aod 



^rr euxpsism tou, dobs it?* Sit 

iTJoleed that she was not old enough to suffer mor* 
deeply. The day would come when she would 
realize what it meant to have her fortune taken away 
and then she would know how great a wrong had 
been done. He wished from the bottom of his heart 
that there had been a way to keep it from her, but 
Fate had decreed differently. 

** There is a lovely diamond cross at Lynch's/* she 
said to him, a few days later. " It is only two thou- 
sand dollars, and I am afraid some one will get it if 
I do not give the order to-day. You know how 
becoming diamonds are to me. " 

"Yes," he replied. If she could think of such 
»4iings while Stanley was in such peril, all the better. 
He was glad that her mind could be diverted. 
" Yes, Rosalie, I will bring you the two thousand 
iftollars to-morrow." 

He brought it as agreed, and then she sat about 
wranging for the contemplated escape. By consult- 
ing the almanac she found that there would be no 
xnoon during the next week, until very late. She 
•isited Stanley in his cell twice more, and found him 
*itill willing to try the experiment for her sake, though 
he would fain have abandoned it, as far as his own 
sentiments were concerned. He had sawed away at 
the bars in his door until the slightest wrench would 
completely sever them, and no one not in the secret 
had suspected what he was about. 

"All that you want is quickness and noiselessness,** 
she said. " Tie your rope ladder firmly and lose no 
time. Leave the rest to me." 

Woodstock had promised Lysle that he would 
explain the whole truth about Miss Steiner before he 
left the city, and as he had decided to go very ; 



St4 momxasm a kaimul 

there beings absolutely nothing, as far as he could se«, 
that he could do for Stanley — he made an appoint- 
ment one evening, and met the lawyer at his office. 
The story that he there heard astonished him much 
more than it will the reader, who has doubtless 
guessed much of it from the preceding pages. 

" When I was called in to settle the matter between 
Stanley and Miss Steiner," Woodstock began, "I 
found a most distressing state of things. Before 
telling me anything whatever she pledged me to 
absolute secrecy, a condition which she afterwards 
modified so far as you were concerned, leaving me at 
liberty to relate the matter to you if I should ever 
deem it advisable. I learned that Max Vandenhoff, 
Rosalie's father, inherited a comfortable fortune and 
went to Europe to spend the income of it in the most 
entertaining ways he could find. He lived at Heidel- 
berg for a long time, and it was there that Miss Steiner 
met him. She had been acting as governess for an 
American family traveling abroad, and her situation 
was on the point of expiring. Vandenhoff in some 
way secured an influence over the girl, for she was 
then quite young, and in the course of time the old 
familiar stsry was repeated.** 

Lysle could not repress a loud exclamation. 

** It surprises you, does it ? Well, it surprised me, 
too. But Miss Steiner, according to her own story, 
which I may add that I fully believe, went through 
a ceremony which he convinced her was binding. 
There is no doubt that at that time Vandenhoff 
loved her, as much as a rou6 of his description is 
capable of loving any one. They traveled together 
over a good deal of Europe, and finally went to Paris 
to reside. They were registered at the hotels as Mr, 
aad Mrs^. Vandenhol^ and there was nothing f 



"it aUBPBISBt T01T, DOBS IT I" 39^ 

aronse ber suspicions that he had betrayed her. 
These relations lasted for more than four years» 
when he suddenly took a fancy to a new face and 
left with his charmer for Italy. He then wrote Miss 
Steiner a note, which I have in my safe, along with 
other documents that prove the truth of her narra- 
tive, telling her that the "marriage" between them 
was a mockery and of no effect. He said she might 
go to his banker's on the first of each month and 
draw a stipulated sum for her support, but that he 
should never return to her." 

Lysle could only ejaculate, ** The villain !" 
" The natural result followed. The girl was pros- 
trated with grief and mortification. And she had 
a double reason for the despair into which she 
was plunged. For several months she had known 
that she was to become a mother. This she had 
Hesitated to tell him, knowing, from expressions 
which he had often used, that the news would be 
most unpleasant, and having a great dread of his 
anger. When she recovered sufficiently, she wrote 
him the truth, leaving the letter at the banker's to 
be forwarded, though they told her he had left no 
address. She heard, however, that he had gone to 
Italy, and when no answer came, she went there to 
seek him. Tracing him from point to point, find- 
ing the trail and losing it again, she searched 
through Italy in vain, and the child was born at 
Naples before she could find its father. Recover- 
ing from her illness, she returned to Paris. Here 
she found that while she had been hunting for Van- 
denhoff he had received her letter, and had also been 
engaged in a search for her. He came to her rooms 
as soon as he learned she was there, and a stortny 
aG«ne followed. 



SM WaULDlSQ A MAIDSir. 

''All the npbraidings that could come to the 
tongue of a wronged woman were hurled at him. 
She called him everything contemptible and vile, 
and bade him quit her apartments. But the more 
anxious she was to be rid of him now, the more he 
wanted to repair his wrong. He told her that he 
was ready to marry her, and that he would have 
done it months before, had he known of the child's 
expected advent. He had gone from Italy to 
Algiers, and it was a long time before her first letter 
reached him. As soon as he learned the news he 
returned with all speed to Paris, only to find that 
she had vanished. Finally he heard that she had 
been seen in Milan, and he went there and from 
thence to Naples, only to find himself too late in 
every case. 

" She would not listen to him. At last he had 
recourse to threats that he would take his daughter 
away from her, but she answered that an illegitimate 
child belonged, by the laws of all nations, to its 
mother, and that he could not have it. Nothing 
seemed to have the slightest influence with her. She 
said that as long as he had allowed her to endure 
this shame she would continue to endure it, and his 
child should share it with her. She obtained 
another situation, and began to earn her living. 
Vandenhoff seems to have had an attack of genuine 
contrition, for as soon as he could do so, he made 
ample provision for both of them in case any acci- 
dent should happen to him." 

Woodstock paused and looked at his auditor, to 
mark the effect upon him of this remarkable story, 

" I do not understand," said Lysle, after a pause, 
** bow he could have married her, even had she com- 



'IT Bvsrmsm voc, ix»i ir?" tST 



Mttttd. Was he not already wedded to m n t ^h &t 
woman ?** 

" To another !** exclaimed Woodstock. 

** Yes, to Rosalie's mother." 

The lawyer started violently. 

** Are you then so slow to understand ?" he said. 
** Rosalie's mother was — " 

** No !" cried the other. " No ! You do not meaa 
that !" 

" I do," replied Woodstock. " I have evidence 
sufficient to prove it." 

The artist seemed stupefied. 

** And she went on, all her life here, and gave no 
sign !" 

" She could do nothing else. It was a great error, 
as she admitted to me, that she carried her rage at 
Vandenhoff so far, but she was terribly outraged at 
his conduct, and it seemed to her that she could 
never be his wife after all he had made her suffer. 
He met his death in her room, where he had come 
to beg her once more to relent, and where the 
excitement of the interview brought on an attack of 
heart trouble from which he expired. This occur- 
rence, combined with what had preceded it, made 
her the nervous woman you knew her, and gave your 
cousin the power he used to overrule her in every- 
thing relating to her own child. When his will was 
brought to her, she determined at first that she 
would refuse to recognize Vandenhoff's right to 
dictate to her even to that extent, but better 
counsels prevailed. The world looked dark and 
dreary, and she accepted the new conditions. 

" After taking his body to Heidelberg and burn- 
ing every portrait she had of him, she came to 
America, and from that time you know the rest. 



Mi maOLBftMQ A UAXDOt, 

Only jTOO aerer can know the cnidties that your 
cousin practised on her when he got an inkling that 
the had a secret. He was a longtime in finding 
out what it was, but one day, when she was in 
anger, the look in her eyes was so much like that of 
the child, whom he had also seen enraged a short 
time before, that it gave him the clue. He said to 
her, * Rosalie's mother is alive,* and from that time 
the question of her death was only one of days. 

" She could not bring herself to tell even a part 
of the tenth to Rosalie, though she tried several 
times, for it was to acknowledge that her father had 
been a brute and she his mistress. I will say this 
for Stanley. He could not have realized himself 
how much pain he was inflicting. He did not know 
the terrible tension of nerves which had followed the 
death of Vandenhoff in her room, when she was 
engaged in a quarrel with him, and which made her 
mortally afraid of having angry words with any 
Other person. 

" By the strict construction of the common law of 
this State, which both Vandenhoff and Miss Steiner 
were living under all this time, they being merely 
travelers abroad, she was his wife from the first 
moment he registered her as such at the hotels where 
they stayed, and introduced her by the name of Mrs. 
Vandenhoff, as he did, to many people. I consider 
Rosalie just as legitimate as any child ever born 
after a civil or religious ceremony." 

Lysle sprang from his chair and grasped the hand 
of the lawyer. 

** Oh, Luke, I thank you for that !" he cried. 

"There is no doubt of it. I should claim her 
property for her on that ground were it her only 
^laim — but alas I it is all gone now !" 



**!! txjsrsam roc, dois nrl" 

** There b nothing left? Mid Lysle, !nterrof> 
atirely. 

**Only a bunch of certificates of stock in tbt 
Alma mine, which no one would take as a gift." 

The artist stood for several moments lost in 
thought. 

" Ah, Luke, if there were some way to save him !** 
he said. " It is not the loss of the money that will 
trouble Rosalie, but the disgrace and suffering of 
her dear friend. I may as well be plain with you. 
She is no longer a child, and she loves Stanley. 
From babyhood she has adored him, and now I can 
call her feeling by no less a name than love. She is 
trying hard to bear up, but when he is sentenced 
she will break down. I am sure of it. You must do 
all you can with me to make his punishment a light 
one, for the effect on her will be worse than on 
him." 

They talked it over for a long time, Woodstock 
recalling all the disagreeable aspects of the case, 
and Lysle pleading for mercy, until at last the 
lawyer relented to some extent. 

" I will promise at least not to press it against 
him," he said. " If you can get the judge to view 
this matter lightly, I will interpose no objection.** 

With this straw of hope Lysle went back to the 
Barrett House, to tell it to Rosalie. Instead of the 
girl herself, he found waiting for him a note irhicil 
threw him into the greatest agitation. 



MO 



CHAPTER XXVin. 

OPP POa BUSNOS ATRBiL 

It happened very luckily for Rosalie's plaas ttuift 

one of the watchmen of the jail where Stanley was 
confined had a sweetheart who was employed in the 
Barrett House, and who was aware of the fact that 
the young girl who had come over from France was 
related to the prisoner. It happened that the officer 
had recently tired of his situation and was only wait- 
ing till things came around right before he should 
resigfn and remove to the West, where he had an idea 
that his fortunes would improve much more rapidly. 
It happened that the only thing that stood in the 
way of his marriage and subsequent removal was the 
want of a little more ready money than he could at 
that time command. It happened that the employee 
at the hotel mentioned to Rosalie that her young 
man was one of the guards in the jail and had charge 
of Stanley every other night. And from these hap- 
peningfs it was not a great way to a talk between 
Rosalie and the girl as to the possibility of an escape 
for the prisoner. When they had exchanged confi- 
dences and the girl had told her lover of the oppor- 
tunity for him to get the money he wanted, it did 
aot take long for him to make up his mind that he 
would never find a better time to resign his position, 
or what was more likely, get his discharge from it. 

The watchman knew that if his prisoner was found 
missing some morning, he would be called up and 
questioned sharply about it. If he allowed it te 



■ppear that he bad be«n indulging in drink, the 

worst thing they could do to him would be to dis- 
miss him in disgrace from the force. As he intended 
going without delay to a new part of the country, it 
made no difference to him what record was left oppo- 
site his name on the books of the sheriff's office 
Rosalie did all her talking with the girl, so that in 
case anything failed he could not be held responsi- 
ble, and the bargain which they consummated was 
that fifteen hundred dollars should be paid for the 
necessary blindness and silence on the part of the 
guard — live hundred dollars down and the balance 
as soon as Stanley had escaped from the jail and was 
safe in a carriage, the girl to be on hand ready to 
take the money. 

The night was selected, and every preparation was 
made. The bars of the outer window had even been 
subjected to the steel saws on a previous night, when 
a thunder-storm drowned the slight sound made. 
The story which the other officials were to be told 
yas that Mr, Melrose must have sawed all of the 
bars while the watchman was under the influence of 
drugged whiskey given him by the prisoner, ta 
whom it had been in some manner smuggled. 

It was the blackest night ever seen. The hour 
was past midnight when the form of Stanley Melrose 
came hastily down the improvised ladder, which he 
then pulled after him, it being held by an endless 
cord, which he had only to cut at the base. The 
street-lamps in the vicinity had been mysteriously 
turned out. He found the carriage where Rosalie 
had told him to look for it, several blocks away, and 
in it the young woman from the hotel, waiting for 
her money. Stanley was disguisad so closely that 
ao one would have recognized him, Rosalie having 



Mi wonuasQ a maxdss. 

taken him the necessary articles in the vaHoot vWtt 
she bad paid to his cel^ and she was dressed in a 
boy's suit. In half a minute more the cabman, who 
had received one hundred dollars for his trouble^ 
though he did not exactly know what the whole 
affair was about, was taking Stanley and his ward 
rapidly away from the scene of his late imprison- 
ment. 

They reached the river side in an obscure part oi 
the city, and there found a man in a row-boat wait- 
ing for them. He had also been promised a largft 
extra fee, but knew no more than the cabman what 
freight he was carrying. 

Out into the darkness of the stream rowed th* 
boatman. Stanley was cautioned to keep a lookout, 
lest they run into other craft, though it was unlikely 
that anything else would be moving in that Egyp- 
tian atmosphere. Rosalie lay down in the bottom 
of the boat, and from that position she talked to her 
companion in low tones. 

" I have a little over four hundred dollars here for 
you, Stanley. It was all I could get after paying 
the men, without exciting attention, but when you 
get to Buenos Ayres I will send you more. You 
will have to take an assumed name, so that the peo- 
ple there will not avoid — I mean — suspect you. 
Supposing you call yourself James Holman, and I 
will write to you under that title. The captain of 
the ship to which we are going does not know your 
real name, nor why you wish to take the journey, but 
he probably suspects that there is something strange 
about it. The fare will not be very nice, I fear, and 
there is no provision for passengers such as the reg- 
ular boats provide, but you Must make the best 



OFT FOB BUBV06 ATBEB. Z^ 

She was eighteen years of age and he nearly twice 
as much, but in the present emergency their rela- 
tions had changed. She was now a woman and he 
a mere child, ready to obey her in all things. He 
held her hand in his as she talked, and his feelings 
at the knowledge that he must soon release it, per- 
haps never to touch it again, were of the most pain- 
ful description. 

" You can get something to do there," she went on. 
*' It will be much better for you than idleness, for it 
will keep you from thinking. And besides, you will 
be able to raise yourself to a good position with your 
talent, if you try hard. I have read a book lately 
about that country, and it says that there are many 
criminals — " she stopped, shocked at the words she 
had thoughtlessly uttered — '* many unfortunate men 
who have come there on account of their — their 
troubles — and are now among the leading citizens. 
You are a very smart man, Stanley, as everybody 
says. And you are young, too, much too young to 
let this — this mistake — ruin the rest of your life." 

She paused, thinking that he might have some- 
thing to interject, but the man said nothing. 

'* Here is a little package that I want you to take 
and use when you need it." She handed it to him. 
" Be careful of it. I shall not want it again. It may 
be of use to you. Do not leave the Argentine 
Republic unless something happens which releases 
you from any danger. It is a sad thing to have to 
go so far from your country, but at least you will be 
free. Lysle and I will soon return to Pans. You 
know our address there. We shall want to h«ar 
from you very often — much oftener than you have 
written us before. As for us, we shall do very weU. 
I have no fears for the future as far as I am 



UOmJOSQ A WATDKK. 

cemed. Perhaps some day we can come out to 
South America and visit you. By that time you will 
be, very likely, a man of importance there. I have 
heard of such things. What is that ahead ? Boat- 
man, is it our vessel ?" 

The boatman rested on his oars and peered into 
the darkness, where the hull of a ship was indis- 
tinctly visible. It was not the ship they sought, but 
an American man-of-war, and they steered away 
from it. The boatman said he knew now exactly 
where the vessel that he sought ought to lie, as he 
had observed the relative proximity of the two craft 
at sunset, and knew that both were anchored. There 
was little more for Rosalie to say, and she lay very 
still for the next five minutes, holding the hand of 
her guardian. 

" Stanley," she whispered, at last, " we are almost 
there. I shall^go at once back to the city, as soon 
as you are aboard the ship, so as to reach the hotel 
at the earliest possible moment. We mu-st say good- 
bye now." 

" Good-bye," he murmured faintly. 

** Kiss me, Stanley." 

** No, no !" he cried with a gasp. " I cannot kiss 
you, Rosalie ! If you knew everything, you would 
not ask it." 

She drew his head down in spite of his resistance, 
and pressed her lips fc his cheek. 

" Skiff ahoy !" came a gruff voice from a vessel 
just ahead. 

The boatman ceased rowing and looked at the 
»hip. 

" What vessel is that i*" he asked. 

••The Silvia, bound at daylight for Buenos Ayres.** 

** I have a passenger for you.'* 



on TOB BinBNQS Axan. 9SS 

•* Put him aboard.** 

Stanley rose, and with the action of a drunkea 
man, staggered upon the deck. 

" Here you," called the captain, for it was he, Xm 
one of his men, " put this fellow into my cabin and 
help him undress. He has been taking a little too 
much. The boy's not going, too, is he ?" he asked, 
turning to the boatman. 

** No," was the reply. 

" It's a dark night. You did well to find us. I 
was afraid you would get lost in the fog. The city 
lights will help you on the way back. Well, good- 
night, shipmate." 

** Good-night," answered the boatman, steering 
his skiff about. 

Rosalie did not dare to speak, lest her voice should 
betray her. Stanley stood there on the deck, with 
the sailor holding him by the shoulder, under the 
impression that he was intoxicated, but he said 
nothing, either. 

Then the fog fell between them and blotted out 
the sight. 

The first rays of the morning sun were struggling 
vainly to dissipate the mists that hung over Manhat- 
tan Island, when Rosalie landed again. The cabman 
was waiting for her, and his vehicle was standing a 
few rods away. She got inside, and as he drove 
up-town through unfrequented streets, she donned 
the feminine outside garments which she had left 
there. She did not let the cab go to the Barrett 
House, bu t left it at Forty-second street, near the 
depot, intending to give the driver the impression 
that she meant to take a train from that point. She 
went inside the station, thinking that he might 
frateh her, but left it immediately by a side docMT, 



8t6 IfOBLDDf • A xauhml ' 

and crossed through Madison avenue into Forty* 

third street, and then walked rapidly to her hotel. 
A sleepy lad let her in, surprised that a lady should 
be out at that hour. But he could not have recog- 
nized her, on account of the heavy veil which she 
wore, had he been ever so inquisitive. 

Lysle had passed a horrible night. 

Clothilde would not go to bed, though he begged 
and almost commanded her to do so, but sat up all 
night in his parlor, alternately weeping and lament- 
ing that it was her fault. And Lysle paced the 
floor, looking impatiently at the clock as it moved 
with leaden motion around the dial, or threw him- 
self impatiently on the sofa, in a vain hope to woo 
a few moments of repose. It was the longest night 
he had ever known — twice as long as any he had 
ever imagined — but the dawn came at last, and with 
it Rosalie. 

Her tap on the door startled him, though he 
had listened for it so long, and when he opened it to 
let her in, she was struck by the extraordinary pale- 
ness of his countenance. In a second it flashed into 
her brain what she had made him suffer. 

" Ah, my dear mistress !" cried Clothilde, catching 
her in her arms. " You are alive and well !" 

Rosalie unclasped herself from the hysterical 
woman, and spoke with her usual composure. 

*' If you have sat up all night for me, Clothilde, 
you have done a very foolish thing. Go to bed at 
once now. And mind you say nothing about my 
having been out. Go, with no explanations." 

This order, curt as it may appear, was said in a 
kind tone, and the woman complied without further 
delay. 

" And now, Lysle, for my scolding from you, for I 



^BSBB ASS TWO OTtlMTNifA.'* 8tT 

see you are ready to give me one," procfNsded Rofti* 

lie, taking off her veil and bonnet. ** Put perhaps 
iyou had best hear first what I have to say an my 
■ defense." 

If he had formed some dim notion that he was 
going to speak to her of her conduct in a tone of 
severity, during those long hours of the lonely night, 
he knew already how unfitted he was to the task. 

" Well," she said, after waiting for him to speak, 
** which shall it be, the scolding first, or the expla« 
nation ?" 

He began to fear that he looked silly, but he could 
not say anything appropriate, and he indicated that 
she might go on. 

She took one of the chairs and motioned to him to 
take another. Then she said, mysteriously— 

" Have you no suspicion of what I have been 
doing ?" 

He shook his head in the negative. He wanted 
very much to know, for until he did, the most horri« 
ble fears would come uninvited into his mind. 

** Not a gfuess of any kind ? I was afraid you 
would have, though it was ridiculous enough. How 
could you have suspected ? Well, Lysle, Stattity it 
fretr 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

"HERE ARE TWO CRIMINALS.** 

The delight with which she uttered these words 
could not be concealed. She leaned towards him 
with her hands clasped together and b«r beautiful 
ey^s luminous. 



S8S wooLoam a xAinDi 

** Free ? " he repeated, with a vacant state 

**Free, Lysle ! He will not have to undergo thott 
long years at Sing Sing, to which they meant to 
sentence him ! He will live in a new country 
where he will have no locks and bars to confine hira ! 
His lungs will not have lo breathe the vitiated air of 
a cell or a prison workshop ! He is at this moment 
on the open sea, where no sherift can touch him I" 

The more he tried to speak the less he could find 
words. He stared at the girl like one stupefied. 

"The open sea?" he echoed. What could she 
mean ? 

"Yes, Lysle. I left him two hours ago on the 
deck of a South American vessel, with his passage 
paid to Buenos Ay res. Are you not glad ? Tuns I 
You do no c«ct as if it pleased you !" 

He read the thought that was in her eyes, and it 
gave him speech at last. 

** Glad, Rosalie ? I know nothing that would 
make me happier. But how was it accomplished ? 
You could not have obtained a pardon for him 
before his sentence. You must have assisted him to 
escape !** 

She smiled proudly. 

"^Yes. That is it. I gave him saws to cut his 
bars, and a rope to let down from the window. I 
bribed an officer to pretend sleep, hired a cab to take 
us to the river and a boatman to row us to the 
vessel. Yesterday I engaged his passage with a 
captain who was to sail at daybreak. Oh, I did it all 
very well. It would do for Monsieur Gaboriau to 
put in a novel. See !" 

She unbuttoned her long dress and showed him 
the boy's suit that she had on beneath it, telling him 
Ik>w she had changed the clothing in the cab, and the 



»?*Bua AXB TWO caaMxmjaJkf* S99 

rest of her strange adventures. Now that they 

were accomplished, she seemed only to thinlc of the 
amusing element in them, and rattled on with many 
a laugh until she came to her parting with Stanley 
at the ship's side. 

** Ah, Lysle, that was terrible !'* she exclaimed, 
dropping her happy tone and wiping genuine tears 
from her eyes. " He hardly answered anything that 
I said to him, all the time we were in the cab and 
boat, and he staggered so when he gained the deck 
that the captain thought he had been drinking. I 
shall never forget him standing there with that 
hopeless look, as my boat was rowed away. Oh, Lysle, 
Lysle, how sorry I am for him !" 

She burst into sobs that shook her frame, and the 
helpless fellow did not know of any way to comfort 
her. He began presently to think again of the 
dangers to which she had exposed herself, and of 
how easily one mishap might have resulted in the 
capture of both the prisoner and his would-be 
rescuer. Then it occurred to him that there was 
a possibility that she might be arrested and tried for 
what she had done, and it gave him a great start. 

" Have you thought," he asked, *' that the officers 
may come here and accuse you, when they find that 
he is gone ?" 

"What can they prove ?" she responded, smiling 
through her tears. " There is no one who can testify 
against me without getting himself into trouble." 

" But they could arrest you — on suspicion," he 
said, " and keep you perhaps for weeks under lock 
and key, even if they had to discharge you at last.** 

"Could they?" She looked sUrtSed. "What 
would you advise me to do ?" 



tm waauxaa a. waamu 

Re looked at the clock. Then he weot to s desk 

and {^cked up a newspaper that lay there. 

"A steamer of the Guion line sails at eleven 
o'clock,** he said, after inspecting its columns. ** We 
must manage to get aboard in some way, without 
exciting suspicion. It will not do to attempt to 
remove our trunks. Could you travel with what 
things you could pack in a small bag ?" 

She looked lugubrious. 

" And have no toilets to appear in at table ? That 
would be dreadful !** 

**You would prefer perhaps dining with the 
sheriff of the city of New York," said Lysle, sen< 
tentiously. 

** No, that must be avoided, but there will be some 
way to get my trunks over. It is only half-past 
four now, and there is plenty of time. I will 
arrange it. I have done more important things 
than that to-night, and I will see that there is no 
trouble.** 

He had grave doubts of the expediency of her 
plan, but she seemed to have decided upon it, and 
he said no more. She began at once to pack her 
things, and he did the same with his own. In 
response to his suggestion that she call Clothilde to 
assist her, she said the woman must be exhausted 
from her vigil and had best be allowed her rest. 

**You and I are different, Lysle," she laughed. 
•* We are not upset by a little flurry. Stanley knew 
what he was about when he put the strength and 
muscle on my body years and years ago. Poor 
Stanley '." She paused, to wipe her eyes again. "I 
seemed twice as strong as he when I lielped 
him into the carriage. He has grown so old and 
fray I But we must think of the bright side uom. 



*<HES£ ABS 7WO OSnUNALS. ' 341 

It will be such a joke on the prison officials, whaa 
they find him gone !" 

The young woman who had arranged the escape 
through her lover, came in very early, and was 
relieved to find that Rosalie had returned safely, and 
that Mr. Melrose was out of danger of recapture. 
She was also pleased when she found that Rosalie 
intended to take the Liverpool steamer, and 
promised to aid her in all possible ways to leave the 
house without attracting too much attention. It 
was decided that Lysle should settle the bill, giving 
the impression that he intended to take a Western 
train, and after the carriages had left the house and 
gone some distance, the drivers were to be informed 
for the first time of the real destination of the 
occupants. A messenger was sent to the steamer 
office to engage state-rooms for two assumed names. 
Everything went well, and half an hour before the 
steamer was to start, the intended passengers of the 
Barrett House were on board. 

By this time the business part of New York was 
ringing with the news of the escape of Melrose. 
The watchman in charge of Stanley's corridor had 
been found in a genuine state of unconsciousness, 
Rosalie having put a light dose of opium into the 
whiskey which Stanley was to give him, thinking 
the surer method the better. In those incompre- 
hensible ways that police sometimes have, one of the 
inspectors learned that though Lysle and Rosalie 
had left the Barrett House ostensibly bound for the 
Grand Central Depot, they had engaged state-rooms 
on the Alaska. Not doubting that Stanley was 
going with them, the officer who made this dis- 
covery rushed into the nearest magistrate's and got 
a warrant for all threa, and before the steamer left 



$4S KOULDINO ▲ MAID9V. 

her dock he boarded her with the expectation of 
immortalizing his name and winning promotion by 
a most important capture. 

Time was pressing. He began a thorough search 
of the boat. He saw a hundred faces, but not the 
one he cared most to find, that of Stanley, whom he 
knew by sight very well. The steamer left her 
moorings and started down the tide. He did not 
mind that, as he knew he could get the Pilot Boat 
to take him and his prisoners back. He searched 
still, aided by one of the passengers, whom he hap- 
pened to know, but without effect. Lysle and 
Rosalie he had little difficulty in finding. But he 
consoled himself with the reflection that the offences 
of Mr. Melrose were extraditable, and that he 
could be arrested in Liverpool on a cablegram, 
when he tried to leave the steamer. 

The vessel continued down the river and ou*: 
into the bay. The officer saw no use in waiting 
longer. He told his friend to keep an eye on Lysle 
while he descended into the cabin to bring up 
Rosalie, who had gone down to her room on an 
errand. Knocking at the door of the state-room, it 
was opened by Clothilde, whose fears were under 
full strain, and who gave a cry at sight of the 
strange man. 

** I wish to speak with Miss Vandenhofif,** he said. 

Although Rosalie had been registered as a passen- 
ger under another name, she did not see any object 
in denying her identity now that the steamer was on 
its way to England. She came immediately to the 
door and said that she was the lady in question ; upon 
which he handed her the warrant, duly signed and 
•onspicuously sealed with the seal of the court. 

" Clothilde," she said, coolly, " go oa the deck «nd 



^STBt&S ABB TWO OBDOKAIJB.* S48 

rem in there till I come. Be sure you say nothin^^ 
to any one about my having a visitor." Then to the 
o£Scer she added, " Step inside, sir. I will be ready 
in a moment." 

The officer was a small man, and noted on the force 
for his unvarying politeness to the fair sex, among 
whom he was popularly believed to be a favorite. 
He accepted the invitation with alacrity, and 
hastened to say how much he regretted the necessity 
of performing this disagreeable duty, and that he 
trusted she would be able to establish her innocence 
of the offenses charged ; with much more to the same 
effect. 

Rosalie all this time pretended to be arranging her 
hair and putting on her bonnet at the mirror. 

" I have warrants also for both the Messrs. Mel- 
rose," he added. 

** Both !" she said, assuming astonishment. " Let 
me see them." 

He displayed the documents and she took them in 
her hands to look over. 

" But I do not see the use of these things," she 
said, innocently. ** How are you to get us ashore 
now that the boat has started ?" 

" Oh, that is easy enough," he replied. " The tug 
will not leave us for half an hour yet. We can all go 
in that. And if you wish to do a real service for Mr. 
Stanley Melrose you will advise him to accompany 
us without trouble. The English authorities will 
certainly take him when he arrives at Liverpool, and 
send him back again, and he will only get a longer 
sentence." 

She seemed much interested. 

** Do you really think so ?" she asked, demurely. 

•* There is no doubt of it." 



344 WOmJXSQt ▲ MAIDBS. 

^e fMuted to consider. 

** Supposing we should refuse to go with you— « 
what could you do about it ? W« are on an English 
vessel, you know.** 

He smiled wisely. 

** Those warrants that you hold in your hand 
would be respected by the captain while we are in 
American waters. He would furnish me assistance 
if you should be so foolish as to resist.** 

She hesitated a moment. He held out his hand 
for the warrants, when, with a sudden motion, she 
dropped them out of the window. 

"They are gone," she said, quietly. "Will he 
furnish you help to take me now ?" 

The officer lost his temper in his vexation, curs- 
ing the folly that had led him to allow the documents 
to leave his hands. 

** I shall take yau at least," he replied, bitterly. 
*• I think I shall not need much help to do that." 

Rosalie drew herself up. She was almost as tall 
as he. 

"You think so?" she replied, Icily. 

" Yes," he responded, losing his temper completely 
as the thought of his idiocy came stronger upon him. 
He drew out a pair of handcuffs. " If you make the 
least resistance I shall put these on you." 

As he put his hands on her arm she caught him by 
both his wrists with a grasp like a vice, and threw 
him by sheer strength upon her lower berth, where 
he lay in her clutch as helpless as a child. 

I am going out of that door and lock it after 
me," she said, bending over him. " If you attempt 
to move I do not know what I shall do, but I think I 
shall kill you !" 

Thoroughly startled, both at the extraordinary 



** HEBE ABB TWO GBDONALS.'* 

Strength she had shown, which he could readily see 
was but a tithe of that which she possessed, and at 
the sudden change in her manner, the officer let her 
leave the room and lock the door after her without a 
protest. She made her way at once to the deck, and 
meeting the third officer of the steamer, she told 
him that there was a person in her state-room who 
she thought wished to go ashore in the tug, at the 
same time handing him her key. 

Then she went to Lysle and hastily related the 
story. He urged that they both had best conceal 
themselves till the tug had gone, but she would not 
listen to that. A minute later the inspector came 
up the companion way and called the captain. 

" Here are two criminals for whom I have obtained 
warrants," he said, in a voice choking with rage, 
" and I want help to arrest them." 

"Let me see your warrants,** responded the 
imperturbable officer. 

" That woman has destroyed them.** 

The captain turned to Lysle and Rosalie. 

** What do you say to this ?" he asked. 

" We say," said Rosalie, quietly, ** that our passage 
is paid on this steamer to Liverpool, and that we 
intend to go there without molestation from any 
one." 

The pilot was getting ready to leave the vessel, and 
the master of the tug inquired whether any one was 
going with him. 

" Have you a ticket ?" asked the steamer captain 
of the inspector. 

** No, sir, but—" 

*' Then get aboard that tug;," said th« captauv 
turning away. 



•IS vooLoaia a xaidbk. 

There was nothing else to do, and the Intpeelaf 

complied with a very ill grace. 

" You will hear from me," he said, as he left the 
boat. 

A banker who had heard of Stanley's escape, and 
the rumors that connected Rosalie with the affair, 
told it all to a group of passengers soon after, and 
she was at once the heroine of the hour. When 
they learned that it was her money that had been 
taken, and that she had risked so much to save the 
thief, their admiration was intense. The captain 
made her sit with Lysle at his table, and the voyage 
over was made as pleasant to her as possible in every 
way. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

* WHEJRK ARE YOUR JEWELS V* 

Mme. Fleury was as glad to see Rosalie again as 
if she had been a child of her own. She caught her 
to her breast as soon as she made her appearance in 
the hotel in the Avenue de I'Alraa, crying, " My 
dear girl ! My darling child !" with great fervor. 
But she was not long in realizing that there had 
been a great change in her late charge. At sixteen 
Rosalie had worn the appearance of eighteen, and 
aow when her eighteenth birthday had come and 
gone, she might have easily been taken to be in the 
twenties. 

It was not that her face seemed older than It 
should be, but she had a manner which could not be 
stcoocUed with her extreme youth. She was 4 



«WHB&B ABB TODJI JXWKLA?" 

woman in everything. Her frivolity bad giv«n wmy 
to that sober sense which usually comes only with 
years. She showed it in her dress, in her walk, in 
her manner of speech, in her part in the conversa- 
tion. Mme. Fleury could not help thinking that 
this wise young person had suddenly become quite 
fit to chaperone some other girl, instead of needing 
a chaperone herself. 

'' I am afraid I cannot afford it, Lysle," said 
Rosalie one day, when some extra expense had been 
proposed. 

It sounded very odd, that expression, coming from 
her, who had never limited her desires for the things 
that money could purchase. 

" Nonsense !" he replied, quickly. " You can 
afford anything you wish." 

" But I thought," she answered, slowly, " that my 
money was about all gone." 

" Much you know about it I" was his response. 
" There is plenty left. But where are your jewels ? 
You have never put them on once since we left 
America." 

She looked at her fingers, on which there was 
only one ring, a plain little affair with ruby setting, 
that Stanley had given her for a birthday present 
when she was eleven. She had had it enlarged 
twice, and whatever else she wore, she was never 
without that. 

" I do not think I care for diamonds now," she 
replied. 

Something in the way she said this au-oused his 
suspicions. 

"They are very becoming to you, though," he 

iwered. ** Get them out, please, and let me see 



84i laaujjxaa a UAtsaau 

them on you once more, t am a better fudge tYHM 
you as to whether you ought to wear them." 

She looked into his honest eyes, and the thought 
came to her that there was a certain wrong in decciv* 
ing him. 

"I will tell you the truth, Lysle," said she, soberly, 
*• I have no diamonds. I have given them all away.** 

Careless as he was of money this startled him. 
Given them away ! They had cost nearly one 
hundred thousand francs ! What a child this was to 
speak so quietly of giving away such a sum. 

" You cannot mean that, I t-hink," he said. "What 
have you done with them ?" 

She came to him, and put her soft hand on his 
shoulder. It was a way she had when she wanted 
to soften anything to him that she feared he would 
not quite like to hear. 

** Don't scold me, Lysle. I gave them to Stanley." 

*• To Stanley !" he echoed, with a shudder. " And 
— and he fffok them ?" 

" He did not know what they were. I put them 
all in a little package and gave it to him the last 
thing before he left the boat to go on the vessel. I 
only said that he must be careful of it, and that I 
wanted him to have it, to do what he thought best 
with. All the money he had after paying his pas* 
sage to South America was $250. I thought he 
might need the gems very mudh, and they were ot 
no real use to me. You do not like it, Lysle, and I 
am very sorry, but I did what I thought right.** 

He was too full of emotion to speak, and she mis- 
took his silence for reproof, both of herself and of 
the man who had accepted her gift. 

** I do not think you ought to care," she wewt on, 
SMing that he remained silent " If I am wiOktg t* 



••WHfiBK ARE TOUR JBWBM?* 34^ 

go without them, what difference can it make to 
you ? But I know what the trouble is. You do not 
like Stanley, and you would rather — " 

He interrupted her with a sudden motion of hit 

hand. 

** You must not say that, Rosalie." 

•*It was my money — that miserable money o£ 
mine that has made him all this trouble," she went 
on, the old spirit breaking out in her. *' It was not 
yours, nor the sheriff's, nor the inspectors, nor even 
that Mr. Woodstock's, who made himself so officious. 
It was just mine, and I do not care a penny for it 
all. The diamonds were mine, and I gave them to 
him because I wanted to. I can think of nothing 
but that wanderer in a strange land, trying to get 
recognition of some kind after all those years when 
he has been so prosperous. Here we are with our 
comforts and luxuries, and there he is with nothing 
but his hands and his brain, beginning life again 
like a boy, only without a boy's hopes and ambitions. 
I am glad I gave them to him, Lysle, and I wish I 
had ten times as much to give him. He may find an 
opening there where a few thousand dollars will 
help put him into a good place. Tell me you do 
not care, Lysle ! You, who are so kind and good, 
you must not hold these bitter feelings against 
Stanley !" 

She had talked so fast that he had found no place 
where he could stop the flow of words, but at the 
first opportunity he told her that she was doing him 
a wrong ; that he was quite willing she should do as 
she pleased about the diamonds ; and that so far 
from wishing any ill to Stanley, he would gladly do 
anything in his power to help him to even partialljf 
regain the poeitioa ia life that he bad losL 



SiO ItOULDINO A MJLIDBK. 

** He is my cousin, Rosalie," he said, putting hit 
arm about her for the first time. ** If that were not 
reason enough, the fact that be is so dear to you 
would furnish any further incentive necessary to win 
him my regard." 

Her eyes ran over with tears of joy. The Indiatt 
spirit that Stanley had inculcated gave way befort 
such trying tests as this. 

** Do you care very much for me ?*' she whispered. 

He was thrown off his guard by the unexpected* 
■ess of the question. 

" Is there anything else in the world that I care 
for ?" he exclaimed. " When you are happily set- 
tled, what more will there be for me to do ?" 

His agitation quite upset her. She had never seen 
bim in such a mood. 

** There will always be something for you to live 
for,** she said. " You are a great painter — a very 
famous man — with a wonderful career in store.** 

He shook off the depression that had crept upon 
bim, and which he was ashamed that she should 
see. 

** Never think for one moment, Rosalie, that I 
have anything but the best of feeling toward my 
cousin. There is one way, at least, in which I can 
prove it to you. We will find out if there is any 
possibility of benefitting him in a pecuniary way, 
and if there is, I will send him whatever money ha 
needs." 

*' You are so good !" she cried. " And a moment 
ago I was saying all sorts of cross things to you 
But he has not written us yet. What do you sup* 
pose is the reason Y* 

••It is hardly time to expect it. He went on a 
Muling vessel, you remember, which may have be«Q 



*WHKBK ABB YOIJB JBWEi^?'* 851 

delayed. Then he would probably wish to wait tiD 
he had something special to write before he sent a 
fetter. But I will not wait for him. I will sead him 
a letter to-day, oflfering my assistance. The knowl* 
edge that money can be obtained may aid him eren 
before it arrives." 

She heard him with every manifestattoo of 
delight. 

" And you have plenty, Lysle, so that you can do 
this just as well as not ?" 

He laughed loudly. 

" Plenty ! Why, of course I have ! Did you think 
I was a pauper ? Let me go now, and write at 
once. The steamer sails for Buenos Ayres to-mor« 
row." 

He rose, and she stood beside him, her counte* 
nance radiant. 

** Lysle, do you remember that evening, when I 
was a little girl at Cape May, and you asked me for 
H kiss, and I refused ?" 

•* Yes," he assented. " I remember it very welU** 

She came closer and looked up inio his eyes. 

*• May I give it to you now ?" 

For almost a minute neither of them stirred. Her 
mouth was within a few inches of his, and their eyes 
were fixed on those of each other. He had a great 
struggle, and then he spoke with composure. 

** Rosalie," said he, " let us sit down again. There 
is something that I want to say to you." 

She sank beside him on a sofa, and he took both 
of her hands in his. It was the first time in his lift 
that he had not had an awe of her. 

" I am going to talk to you about a matter that I 
have had in mind for some time," he said. "Ian 
going to talk to you as a man can talk to a womaOi 



S52 MOULDING A MAIDSW. 

as a guardian can talk to his ward. For yon tn ft 
woman now, and you can understand me. You asll 
if you may g^ve me that kiss which you once refused 
with such indignation, and I am going to tell yon 
that you cannot. The lapse of years has changed 
everything. If you are pleased with what I have 
done or offered to do, that is payment enough for 
me. The lips of a young woman are not to be 
lightly touched, and there is no relation between us 
that would justify me in accepting the offer made in 
a moment of ;^ratitude for what you consider a favor. 
Rosalie, my dear girl, let those lips first be pressed 
by the man whose love you have had ever since you 
were old enough to know his voice — who now< 
through all his errors and his misfortunes, you hold 
dearest on earth." 

The hands that he held had grown suddenly cold. 
Had he been less in earnest he would have been 
amazed at the phenomenon. But he was so wrought 
up with his subject that he noticed only the still 
face turned toward his, on which not a muscle was 
seen to move. 

*• When I first saw you and Stanley together I could 
not help marveling that he, a man of business, full 
of legal work and all kinds of projects, should devote 
himself so to such a tiny thing. The next time I 
went to America I noticed it still more, and in a 
hundred little ways that he probably never dreamed 
would attract my attention. When I painted those 
pictures of you he tried to buy one of them, and as I 
had made a rule never to sell anything I had done, 
he showed the greatest disapf)ointment. As you 
grew older, the very love that he had conceived for 
you made him assume those distant ways that caused 
f •« such surprise and annoyance. Stanley thought 



^WHSBX ABB TOUB JBWSLS?^ 353- 

that closer contact with you was not well when iC^ 

was evident that you were no longer a child. All- 
the time that you were holding hard feelings against 
him for his apparent neglect, I am convinced that he 
was learning to love you more than ever.'* 

The hands had grown quite icy now, but he did not 
ootice. 

** Stanley's great ambition in life was to be a man 
of prodigious wealth. In striving to accomplish it 
too rapidly he was led into ventures which resulted 
in disaster. I have no doubt that he fully believed 
when he first used your money that he could thus 
double it as well as his own. I believe he thought 
he could see, down the vistas of time, the dear 
little woman he loved, sitting at his fireside, enjoy- 
ing the great wealth that his shrewdness and ability 
had brought her. How he failed to accomplish what 
he sought, we both know. But in those days when 
it became evident that ruin was on his track, and that 
either flight or inprisonment was to be his fate, what 
was it that troubled him most ? Not the loss of for- 
tune, but the distance he had placed between himself 
and the one he loved more than wealth, more than 
honor, more than freedom. A thoroughly bad man 
would have gathered a goodly sum from the wreck 
and gone out of the country before he was suspected. 
Stanley acted like one crushed. He waited for the 
arrest which he must have known was inevitable. 
He went to prison without a word, and would have 
taken his sentence without even making a defense in 
the court. What had he to live for outside the 
granite walls ? So far as he could forecast, his folly 
bad lost him forever the pearl he had most cared to 
win. 

** Then, in the midst of the Egyptian blackness 



that enshrouded him, a light came. The loved OM 

risked her reputation, her liberty, to set him fiee. 
He took her hand and walked out of his prison into 
the world. In a foreign country he is now trying to 
make himself again a man. What is there to comfort 
him ? Of what use will success be, if fortune smiles 
once more, unless he has the promise of the one he 
loves that she will some day come to him ? If he has 
not yet had that premise — if he feared to ask it — he 
must have it now. Stanley loves you, Rosalie, and 
you love him. You are old enough to think seriously 
of your duty. As soon as you wish, I will go with 
you to Buenos Ayres and leave you there, the wife 
of a man who will never again, I am sure, give you 
cause for a tear or a blush." 

She made him no answer, but arose and slowly left 
the room. Lysle went that day to an art dealer and 
arranged to sell several of his paintings, not making 
nearly as good a bargain as he might, for he despised 
the entire business, and was only anxious to get a 
certain sum, regardless of how much he gave in 
exchange. He then wrote a long letter to Stanley, 
offering to do anything in his power to help him, and 
enclosing a draft as an earnest of his promises. 

" I wish," he wrote, " that you would accept tht 
enclosed in exchange for the jewels that Rosalie 
gave you, and return them to me by the earliest 
steamer. I think you would have to sacrifice them 
if you sold them there. Do not think I am interfer- 
ing between you and her, for I quite approve of the 
motive which made her give them to you. I am sura 
you will find use for capital, and trust that you will 
«Don be on your feet, financially speaking, and ready 
to battle with the world successfully." 



^VmEME ABB TOUB IKWBLS?** 355 

Much more Lysle wrote also in that letter, the 
whole breathing a fraternal spirit that was intended 
to cheer and encourage the expatriated man. When 
Stanley received it he had just been offered a most 
eligible chance to enter a young firm engaged in the 
export of hides, where the profits were sure to be 
great. His prospective partners wanted a little more 
money than they could command, in order to increase 
the business, and he had felt his poverty deeply as 
he saw the golden opportunity slipping from him for 
the want of a sum that he would have considered a 
short time ago a mere bagatelle. Lysle's draft would 
enable him to accept the offer, but it seemed degrade 
ing to take it in exchange for the diamonds, which 
he had intended to return to Rosalie with his thanks. 
Had he known what was in the little packet which 
she handed to him in the boat, he would never have 
taken it. Feeling certain, however, that he could 
soon return the amount, he accepted it, saying in 
his letter to Lysle that he did not consider it any- 
thing else but a loan, and that he should repay it 
with interest as soon as he could do so. 

It was a happy day for Lysle when he brought 
the jewels to Rosalie, and spread them out on her 
table bet£)re her astonished eyes. She was inclined 
to be displeased at first, until he told her that he 
had sent Stanley much more money than he could 
possibly have got for the stones. He made her put 
them on again and told her how much more natural 
she looked, but she did not seem quite satis- 
fied. 

" I do not think I shall ever enjoy them as I used," 
she said. " I almost wish you would sell them now, 
and let me send the price to him to add to what he 
has already. A man out there cannot have too 



SSt mauLboxQ ▲ icaidbh. 

mach money. There are great chances for caphil 
at Buenos Ayres. I have read it in a book that I 
have." 

She had changed a good deal. Not only did the 
care less for jewelry, but her love of dress had les- 
sened, also. She had become a very quiet little 
woman, and Mrae. Fleury was not entirely at her 
ease about her. 

** Do you not notice that something is preying on 
the mind of mademoiselle i" she asked Lysle, in one 
of their conferences. 

** Yes," he replied. " I may as well confide to you 
the reason, Mme. Fleury. She is constantly think* 
ing of her guardian in South America. Rosalie is 
now eighteen years old, and the friendship of the 
child has become the love of the woman. As sooa 
as he is settled there, I shall try to bring the mar- 
riage about. Stanley is ashamed to ask her to share 
such a broken and dishonored life as his, and of 
course she cannot make the proposal, being a woman. 
But they both entertain the same wish, and it will 
^e for me to arrange it.** 

The woman eyed him with a peculiar expression. 

"Are you sure'that you have rightly guaged her 
sentiments ?" 

** Oh, yes. There is no doubt. I have already 
ipoken to her, and she was much impressed.** 

" Excuse me for saying it, but you also ought to 
marry, M. Lysle,** said Mme. Fleury. "You are 
Bot a man who should condemn yourself to bach^or- 
hood.** 

" I shall never marry,** he said, simply. 

The crisis came when Stanley had been absent a 
little over six montns. Lysle received a letter from 
liiiD, saying thai he was prospering wonderfully in 



'*WHSBB ASB TOUB JSWBLS?^ 367 

his new business, which his cousin's generosity had 

enabled him to enter, and that he had hopes of the 
future that were really bright. After giving a slight 
indication of the condition of his trade^ be startled 
his reader by adding these lines . 

" And now, my dear cousin, I am going to say 
something that will surprise you. Since I have bees 
here I have had the honor of an introduction to one 
of the best and noblest women who ever lived, and 
we have become much attached to each other. Feel* 
ing the loneliness of a single life as I never felt it in 
my own country, and knowing that she was also 
without attachments here, I have asked her to be my 
wife, and she has accepted. Before I did so, I gave 
her a truthful history of my career, and she takes 
me as I am, knowing me fully repentant for what 
I have done. We are to be married within three 
months, and I am sure you and Rosalie will wi^ ut 
happiness." 

Lysle felt his brain reeling. Anjrthing so cold* 
blooded he had never conceived. He wished for a 
moment that he had back the money he had sent to 
this ungrateful wretch. 

** How can I ever tell it to her !'* he mflantd* 
" How cao I ever teU it to he;? r 



M ifooLDiaa ▲ vAxom* 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

TOO WONDERFUL TO BE TRUE. 

For the next week Lysle was plunged into the 
deepest melancholy. Knowing the sensitive nature 
of his ward, he dreaded the effect of the news which 
he would have to impart. He avoided her all that 
he could, pretending to have errands in other parts 
of the city at dinner time, and to be very busy in his 
Studio all the rest of the day. But once, when he 
had told her that he must not be disturbed on any 
account, as he had to finish a certain picture, she 
disregarded his injunction and went by herself to 
the Rue Dutot, where she surprised him sitting with 
his head buried in his hands in an attitude of the 
deepest dejection. 

" Why, Lysle," she cried, going instantly to him, 
* what is the matter .?" 

" Nothing," he answered, sitting up. " I thought 
I asked you not to come here to-day." 

*' Shall I go ?" she inquired, flushing. 

" Oh. no," he replied. *' I shall not do any more 
work this morning." 

She knew that something troubled him. He had 
not been as cheerful as usual for a week. She 
walked about the studio, looking at the paintings. 

"Do you know, Lysle," she said, presently, "I 
■ever see that picture of 'The Sleeping Girl ' but it 
always reminds me of Clothilde ? I never saw two 
laces more alike.** 



TOO WOKDXBrUL TO BK TBOX. 

•«It is Clothilde,** he said. **! tlx>ught yoa 

knew." 

She drew herself up a little^ and her breath came 
short. 

** And you — you painted her — that way T* 

•*Ycs. When I was a student." 

She paced the floor for several minutes. 

** I am very angry," she said, at last. 

"Why?" He looked up. 

" That you should bring a woman of that kind 
to live with me." 

'• Of what kind ?" he asked, somewhat dazed. 

** One who would submit to be painted in such a 
pose !" 

Then he told her of the young girl who had been 
compelled by her step-mother to earn her living in 
that manner, of how she had struggled against the 
disagreeable task, and of how she had gone through 
suffering and privation to free herself from it. As 
the story progressed the lines in Rosalie's face grew 
softer. 

" I am sorry for what I said," she told him, gently. 
**You need a great deal of patience to get along 
with me. I ought to have known that you would 
not do anything dishonorable. But what troubles 
you ? You need not tell me it is nothing, for I have 
noticed it." Suddenly she glanced at the walls of 
the studio and missed the paintings that he had sold. 

"Ah ! I know ! Some one has stolen them ?" 

" Stolen ?" he repeated, following her finger with 
his eyes. 

" Yes. They were there the last time I came, and 
now they are gone. They have been stolen — or else 
' — Lysle ! You have not so/d them !" 

Had they been the living children of his body as 



lie oflod to ean then of Ms braiii» tiM eoold not litft 
put more horror into her tone. 

* It does not matter," he responded, arousing him- 
self. ** They are of very little consequence ; just a 
few months labor that I can devote again to some- 
thing better." 

** You have sold them," she repeated, in freesing 
accents. " Why ? To get money ! For what ? To 
send to Stanley !" 

He looked up defiantly, 

** Well, I did ! And what of it ? It was foolish to 
keep them forever, when there was a good market. 
I would not care if the rest went, too ! Only I 
would not send the money to him again ! No, not 
if he were dying of hunger !" 

Was this Lysle, the gentle, affectionate Lysle? 
She was too much astonished to answer him. 

** Am I severe ?" he muttered. ** Before you say 
to, read that !" 

He threw the letter at her feet, and she picked it 
up with a strange feeling of apprehension. What 
had Stanley done now? Robbed some one else, 
perhaps, and laid himself liable to another term in 
prison. She could think of nothing but that which 
could justify the tone and manner that Lysle had 
used. She hardly dared open the terrible missive, 
but she found the courage, and read it through with« 
out stopping. 

Lysle was alarmed after he had handed it to her, 
at the rashness of what he had done. He thought 
when it was too late that he should have broken it 
to her in some gentler way, but he had been trying 
for a week to think of one and had failed. He 
watched her expression as she glanced over the lines, 
and to his inexpressible wonder he saw that the 



yOO fPORDBBfinL 10 IM 

frightened look gave irty to * pronoanotd tmilt m 
she neared the end. 

** I am so glad !" she cried» looking u^ ** Stanley 
has taken the only way to find real happiness. But 
—what is there here that you do not like ? Surely^** 
she added, mischievously, '*you are not such • 
woman-hater that you object t^ his marriage !'* 

It was now his turn to be dumbfounded. SIm 
read the letter slowly again, but could not underw 
stand. 

** He has written that he is prospering io bnsineit 
and about to marry an estuuable woman whom be 
loves. Ah, Lysle, I was right before I You hate 
Stanley, in spite of your gift to him, and yon grudge 
him peace and contentment You think he should 
be punished more severely for his fault I em very 
iorry. It is not at all like you." 

It seemed to him that he must be dreeming. 

"And it pleases j'^w/" he articulated. 

** More than anything in the world. Do yo« tliiek 
I, who have cared for Stanley all my life, caa feet 
anything less than elation that he is to have this Joy ? 
It lifts a load from my heart I shall no longer think 
of him as the lonely adventurer, but as the man of 
family, with a wife at his side, comforting and 
cheering him in all his vicissitudes. It will be the 
making of him ! How can you ask if it pleases me f 

He heard her and he could see that she was ia 
earnest It was not as he at first suspected, a mere 
pretence of delight to hide the sorrow that lay 
underneath. Had he been in error all this time f 

**But I thoaght" he stammered, "that you—" 

** Was in love with him myself t" she evcla1«e4 
with a gay laugh. " And so 1 was, as a child Iwne 
iu father, as a ward loves the kind guardian itom 



JQ8 MOULDnfO A VAIDSV. 

whose brain she takes her first impulses. I 

him as he loved me, but never in the way you art 

trying to imagine. No, Lysle, never." 

Honesty beamed from her eyes and ho could not 
doubt her. 

"Why did you not say this to me that day when I 
talked with you about him?" he replied. "You 
knew what I thought, and you let me go on thinking 
$o." 

" There were difficulties in the way," she smiled, 
sweetly. "You had just refused me a kiss, and I 
was too abashed to say anything." 

He rose from his chair with dignity. 

"That is not a thing to jest about, Rosalie !" 

"Isn't it, dear?" she replied, comings towards him. 
•• But you should not have refused me, for you may 
never get the chance again." 

There were a hundred laughs chasing each other 
Dver her beautiful, blushing countenance. 

"Rosalie," he said, bending toward her, " I must 
fay something to you, now that I know I can at 
least do so without disloyalty to Stanley." 

She took his face between her hands. 

" There is no need of saying anything, Lyf le. I 
liave known it for ever so long." 

It seemed too wonderful to be true. 

" And you love me ?" he cried. 

" You've guessed it at last," she answered. •" I 
thought you never would. Oh, Lysle, what a dear, 
darling, slow old boy you are !" 



" I have good news to write you," said Luke 
Woodstock, in a letter received by Lysle, shortly 
after this, " that will, I think, cause you some sur- 



100 WQNDBBFCL TO KB TMHk MSl 

friMt. Ton recollect that the only thing « was ablo 
to save out of your cousin's investments was a lot of 
certificates of stock in the Alma Gold Mine, which 
nobody wanted, and which I was consequently able 
to buy in for a song. Recently I heard from a 
miner who had returned from Colorado, that a mine 
near the Alma had begun to show up well, and I 
took a trip out that way. What I learned induced 
me to put men at work in the empty shaft and with* 
in a week they had * struck it rich.' I telegraphed 
home to my partner to buv up all the rest of the 
stock that he could get his hands on, and between 
the Vandenhoff estate, Stanley and myself, we have 
about the whole of it. I cannot say where the lode 
may end, but there is enough in sight already to 
pay off every dollar of Stanley's defalcation, and 
leave him a handsome surplus. Miss Rosalie will 
get the whole of her fortune again inside of a year, 
and probably much more with it. I am now trying 
to arrange things with the district-attorney to have 
the indictment against Stanley nol. pros'd, so that 
he can come home and make restitution to those 
who have suffered by him, as I have no doubt he 
will be glad to do. 

" There is another thing that may interest yoa 
Arthur Peck was killed out in California last week, 
in a row over a woman, Dudley Morgan is doing 
well — he is now in my office — and sends his regards.' 

Lysle handed this letter to Rosalie and was glad 
to witness the joy it gave her. 

" It is not tliat I want the money tor myself," she 
said, " but it will enable Stanley to hold up his head 
again ; and then we shall see his new wife, for they 
will be sure to come to Paris and pay us a visit." 



«T-e^'nidl.yilt^(riowl]f. •^ItwiUbebMtwSof 
them to come iitn^ I tiUali^thaa for ut to go to tht 
United States. Thtre It a itlurge hanging over 0% 
you know, of assisting ia Hm escape of a prisoner.** 

Rosalie laughed heartily at this pleasantry, and 
they went together to tell Itae W^muj and Qothilde 



THE POPULAR NOVELS 

OF 

MAY AGNES FLEMING 



THE ACTRESS' NORINE'S REVENGE. 

DAUGHTER. PRIDE AND PASSION. 

A CHANGED HEART. QUEEN OF THE ISLE. 

EDITH PERCIVAL. SHARING HER CRIME. 

A FATEFUL ABDUC- THE SISTERS OF 

TION. TORWOOD. 

MAUDE PERCY'S WEDDED FOR HQUE. 

SECRET. A WIFE'S TRAGEDY. 
THE MIDNIGHT QUEEN. A WRONGED WIFE. 



Mrs. Ftemio^s stories have alirays boen extnatiy popt^br. 
Titeir delmeattons of cbaracter, UfeStfk oonversamos, the 
fliLshefi of vit, their cortstaotfy varying scenes and <ieet^ 
bxtaeitias plots combine to place thdr author in aa ^viaye 
position, whidi is stiB mfdrtteioed despite the tretnendboB 
onrush of modetQ novelists. No roOTe brilliant oar ^Jning 
xtovels than hers have ever been pubiished, and strangD as it 
may seem, the seeker aiter romance today reads these books 
as eagerly as did ottr mothers when they 6rst appeared. 



All ptdtUabeii ualform, cloth boond. PrUxt SO 

cents each, and sent PRBB by maii, ■. 

OB rectdpt oifHrkic by 

G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 

PUBtll^CRS mm YORK 



THE FASCINATING NOVELS 



or 



Celia E. Gardner 



BKOKJE3* DREAMS (In verse). TESTED. 
COMPENSATIOK (In verse). TEE31ACE ROSES. 
HER LAST LOVER. TWISTED SKEIN an 

RICH MIDWAY'S TWO verse). 

LOVES. A WOMAN'S WILES. 

STOLENWATERS (In verse). WON UNDER PROTEST. 



These stories are as far removed from the sensational as 
poaBlble, yet in matter as well as styJc, they possess a fascin- 
atxm all their own. The author makes a specialty of the 
stoiif of a woman's heart. Their tone and atmosphere are 
hig^; the characterizations good; the dialogue bright and 
natural. "Bex books have had an enormons sale. 



12 mo. CMb botmd. Price, SO cents 

oaofr, eai seat PREB by maU, on 

receipt of price by 



G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 



THE CHARMING NOVELS 

OF 

JULIE P. SMITH 



BLOSSOM BUD. CHRIS AND OTHO. 

COURTING AND FARM- HIS YOUNG WIFE. 

ING. LUCY. 

KISS AND BE FRIENDS. TEN OLD MAIDS. 

THE MARRIED BELLE. WIDOW GOLDSMITH'S 
THE WIDOWER. DAUGHTER. 



Julie P. Smith's books are of unusual merit, imcommonly 
well written, cleverly developed and characterized by great 
wit and vivacity. They have been extremely popular, and 
they still retain to a greatjdegree their former power to charm. 
Her pictures of farm life and of rural conditions are wholesome 
and finely done. The himian interest is never lacking from 
her stories. 



AH pubttshed uniform, cloth bound. Price, 50 
cents each, and sent FREE by mail, 
on receipt of price by 



G.W.DILLINGHAM COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 



THE COMPLETE WORKS 

MARY j/ HOLMES 



The BUM of M«ry J. HoImm m a howiiwid word 
wtaBBiotM «l rwders. All her stories flow wtdi the 

ae lore of outdoor nature and poritx of aK>tive and 

eapression. Her books have sold in ffraater Monbers 
dMA alnKMt any other Amerioaa aovefist — m fa«t her 
stories have been universally read aoA her adcoirers are 
■wmberless. For many years she stood without a rival 
in fiction. Her characters are always life-like and she 
■Hikes thea talk and act like huaun beinfs. subjeet to 
tke same emotioas, swayed by the same passions, and 
ao t w at ed by the same motives that arc conunon among 
mm aad women of everyday exUtcnce. 





Kitty Oalc 


Biisiii'e F«rtaiM 


LaaaKivara 


C— »ww Prid*, The 


Madaliaa 


Chliiau lyOr 


MacKia Millar 


CmmmW* Mistake 


Marfwertea 


CMuin Maude 


Mariaifirey 


Grwnptone, Tha 


Meadew Break 


Daiay TharntoM 


MarivaU Beaks, Tha 


DlarkRaas and Daylifrht 


Mildred 


D)r. Hatham's Dauf^tars 


Mildrad*s Ambitian 


Dara Daana 


MiUbank 


Edith Lyla 


Mrs. Hallam's Campanian 


Eda« Brawwiai^ 


Paul Ratetan 


Es^rK«i> Orphans, Tha 


Queeaua Hatharton 


EHbaiyn's Mistake 


Rena's Experiment 


Farrest House 


Rasa»»ond 


Gretcben 


Rose MatKar 



I i 

Momao taad an tha HiHsida Tern past and Sunshine 
He i e h Wartkiniftan Tracy Dtamoads, The 

Gradkam Waat Lawn 



40 Vdumu. THE ONLY COMPLETE EDITION 

Mmi^omoly bound in doda. Prtae. 30 eents cash and 
sent free by mail on re«sipt of prkte 

G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 

PVM.ISKESS NBWYOIUC 



University of California 

SOUTHERN REGiONAL LiBRARY FACiLITY 

305 De Neve Drive - Parldng Lot 17 • Box 951388 

LOS ANGELES, CALiFORNIA 90095-1388 

Return this material to tiie library from whicli it was twrrowed. 



raom 



-mm 

MAY 1 2 M)4 



ABLE 



DUE 2 WKS FROM Drtlfc i(fc 



UCLAAi.CtotS 

I f o....y Uriiversity 

Lus Angeles CA ! 



Forn 



:rtviCES 

Research Library 
0035-1575 



UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 



111 



A 000 032 795 7 



